Conquering Never
by minimindbender
Summary: The sequel to Delicate. Harm and Mac find their way after the events of Delicate. Harm's POV.
1. Hello Little Girl

_A/N: So, here's the sequel. It will be a little different than_ **Delicate** _. It's from Harm's POV and the way I see it now it will be part sequel, perhaps some sections of prequel (covering Harm's thoughts on the events just prior to and during_ **Delicate** ). _We will see...This story will be more "domestic," and of course our dynamic duo will have some bumps in the road, but not bumps as big as Sadik..._

 _A/N 2: I realized after I wrote this chapter that it mentions, well, vomit and urine more than the average JAG story…no, it it's not something kinky, it makes sense for what's going on. I do apologize, though, if any of you readers are squeamish (no, I don't think anything is gross…but then again, I'm not exactly squeamish)._

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 1: Hello Little Girl**

 _September 21_ _st_ _, 2004_

 _0855 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

My hands are too big. That's the problem, really. They are just too big. I am somewhat surprised I'm only now realizing this, when they have been attached to me for forty years. Well, forty-one years, really, but my birthday isn't actually for another month. Of course, my hands never seemed too big in a Tomcat or a Hornet. Not too big while I was remodeling my loft…but then again, I've never held anything this small, this delicate. Nothing ever so dear. I feel clumsy and I'm sure these big meat hooks of mine will drop or crush the precious bundle I hold.

I look over at my sleeping wife, and I'm drowned in such a wash of love that I almost, _almost_ cry. Okay, there are actually a few tears running down my cheeks. But it doesn't count if no one sees you, right? _Oh, damn…_

"Harm…are you—is everything—are you okay?" Retired Admiral AJ Chegwidden steps into the room, his expression concerned, even worried.

I give him a sheepish half-smile. "Everything's fine, AJ…I'm just…r-really… _oh god, did my voice just break?…_ uh, happy." My former CO just smiles and gives my shoulder a squeeze, a look of understanding on his face.

"I know what you mean." He looks over to the still-sleeping Sarah. "Oh, she's resting. I'll come back—" He starts to head for the door.

I stand up, clutching the now slightly squirming package in my hands closer to my chest. _She's so tiny,_ I think, and I feel my eyes start to well up again. "No, AJ, don't go. Mac will be upset if she misses you," I whisper. "And she…" I look down at my daughter whose mouth is starting to move in that adorable lip-smacking way that means she's hungry, "will want to eat soon, so Mac will have to wake up."

AJ relaxes and steps closer to us, peeling back the blanket a bit to get a better look at my little girl. "Can I—" He holds out his hands and gets this loving, hopeful look on his face, another man smitten by this most enchanting creature. I nod, smiling as I hand over the new Miss Lydia Rose Rabb to the man who will essentially be one of her grandfathers. His hands look just as big as mine as they cradle the tiny baby, but, unlike mine, they don't seem as unsure. I'm a little jealous, but also so very happy Lydia will have such wonderful influences in her life. She's a very lucky little girl…and I am a very, _very_ lucky man.

That Sarah and I have made it to this point is nothing short of miraculous. Well, maybe not miraculous…but we are both stubborn, pig-headed people and we are also our own worst enemies. But here we are…married. With a brand-new daughter. A girl with her looks…we're not sure about the brains yet. I'm putting my money on Sarah there too, though. Lydia was born a little early…almost four weeks early, and everyone knows my marine wife is always early. Me, not so much.

We found out Sarah was pregnant the morning after she killed that bastard Sadik. My fists still clench in fury whenever I think of him or hear his name; I have tried, am still trying, to let go of the anger at what he did to Sarah, and what he could have done to Lydia. Most of the time I am successful in my efforts to keep it from my beautiful wife, choosing to release the rage away from her in some constructive manner. She has her bouts of anger too, but when she hears me rail and cry about everything Sadik has done, she shrinks into herself, feeling guilty that she brought this upon us. Someday I hope I will be able to convince her that I don't blame her, have never blamed her, for any of it.

But then that isn't entirely true, is it…that I never blamed her for anything; we spent five months apart after Paraguay, not speaking, the worst five months of my life. I was angry and hurt, refusing to pick up or return her calls each of the seventeen times she phoned. Sometimes I would even simply decline the call, knowing she would know what had happened when it went directly to voicemail. I wanted her to hurt as badly as I did, while she just wanted to apologize for her "never." That damnable word thrown out after the worst weeks of her life almost broke us both. Me, because I gave up everything to save her, to finally tell her I loved her, her because I gave up everything and _didn't_ tell her those three little words. I played the jealous ass and then disappeared from everyone's life to lick my wounds, leaving a trail of pain and hurt behind me.

I finally answered her the eighteenth time she called. Ever since her seventeenth message, I had had a nagging sense that all was not right with Sarah. Her voice on the machine sounded so forlorn, and without even thinking much about it, I answered her next call. I was hanging out at a dive bar/dance club called Rooster's, a place I had discovered some weeks before that made strong drinks, honored John Wayne, and had the funniest chicken statue. Okay, I was probably drunk the first time I noticed it, making everything seem that much more hilarious, but the damn thing still makes me laugh every time Sarah and I go there. Anyway, that night when she called me, I just told her to meet me there. No, 'How are you?' or 'How's JAG?'-just a cryptic "Rooster's. In the back." But she came to me, and the rest, as they say, is history.

I still thank God every night that, despite my behavior after our 'reunion' there, we managed to come together, make a child, and get married. I am happier now than I've ever been, but it wasn't easy…

* * *

 _March 22nd, 2004_

 _1222 Local_

 _Burnett Residence_

 _La Jolla, CA_

"Harm, I think you'd better check on Mac." My mother catches me just as I walk in the door. I had spent the morning golfing with Frank…that is to say, I walked around with Frank while he golfed, my arm being far from ready to swing a club. Sarah and I had been with my parents for the last week so we could both recover from our recent experiences and injuries. I hadn't wanted to leave Sarah today; her morning sickness had been particularly awful the last few days, but she insisted. In fact, she told me if I didn't stop hovering, she would poke out my eyeballs and serve them to me on a skewer. I laughed, but her glare made me just a little afraid she was serious. Chocking it up to hormones and not wanting to poke the beast any further, I left with Frank.

After nine holes (I couldn't handle being apart from an ailing Mac for that long, no matter her threats) and a quick lunch at the clubhouse, we returned to my obviously very worried mother.

"What's going on?" Frank asked, coming up behind me.

"It's Mac…she's been throwing up since you left."

"Why didn't you call me?" I asked, already running up the steps to our room. I don't need the answer; Sarah would have insisted I not be disturbed. _Damn her marine hide!  
_

I can already hear retching by the time I reach the top of the stairs. It seems that once she accepted she was pregnant, Sarah's body went into pregnancy overdrive. I'm in the bathroom and by her side in an instant, rubbing her back and wiping her face with a wet cloth as she leans back from the toilet.

"Hey," she says, her voice raw. She's very pale and there is a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

I brush her hair back from her face, noting she feels rather clammy. "Hey, yourself…sweetheart, I think it's time we took you to a doctor."

And just as I expected, she shakes her head. "No. It'll pass. It always—" With that, she is back over the toilet, retching violently, although there's nothing left in her but bile. I'm frustrated that I can't do more for her than rub her back and bring her watered-down Gatorade and ginger ale.

"Oh, fuck, Harm, I feel terrible," she moans when the storm finally passes. Her use of profanity and the fact that she actually admitted to feeling so bad has me even more worried, but I just nod my head.

"I know, baby. Let's get you back in bed and I'll get you some ginger ale and water." She shakes her head as I help her up.

"No. I'll just throw it back up," she says, leaning heavily on me. I'm actually supporting most of her weight, and truthfully, I'm getting more scared by the minute.

" _Maaac…"_ I cover my fear with exasperation. "You have to stay _hy_ drated!" I do not expect her to burst into tears, which she does as we start to move toward our bed. This definitely has me worried…yes, I have seen her cry more in the last six months than in the entire eight years I've known her, but this is more a cry of utter defeat, of surrender. My marine is _not_ one to give in; I know she feels even worse than she's letting on.

I pull her into my side, half-carrying her the rest of the way to the bed. I want to scoop her up in my arms, but being only a little over a week out from having a bullet taken out of one of them, that is a bad idea. She sags against me, her arms weakly wrapping around my waist, bits of my shirt clenched loosely in her fists. I'm wondering if I should call an ambulance as she sobs against me, but I have to admit I'm grateful to feel the dampness of her tears coming through my shirt. At least she's hydrated enough for that.

I set Sarah down and crouch down beside her. My knees protest but I need to get a good look at her, a good look into her eyes. What I see makes my heart clench. Her beautiful olive skin is more sallow than anything, her normally bright chocolate-amber eyes are dull and sunken in, and the hollows of her cheeks have deepened overnight. She was already too thin from the ordeals of the last year; she doesn't have any reserves now. My decision is made.

"Sarah, honey," I say quietly, brushing her hair back, "we need to take you to the hospital." My tone is firm and she only nods, closing her eyes.

I use my cell to call my mother, who is no doubt still hovering by the stairs, so I can tell her to bring the car around and send Frank up to help me get Sarah down the stairs. _Damn arm._ While I wait, I gather a few of Sarah's toiletries, some underwear, and a few items she calls "loungewear." That 'loungewear' is basically a couple of my t-shirts and what amounts to pajama pants.

I poke my head out into the hall to see what is taking so long and I'm surprised as hell to see the admiral striding down the hall. I slip out of the room and softly shut the door. "Sir, this is a surprise…"

"It's AJ here, Harm."

"But what are you—"

"Visiting a friend."

"Um, I'm flattered…but-"

"Not you, Harm," is his curt response. _Is he here just to see Sarah? She did tell me that he almost kissed her once, and Bugme was certainly onto something when he accused us all of being in love with her…_

"It's not Mac, either, Harm." He actually looks a bit uncomfortable, and I get the distinct impression he's still here for a woman even if it's not Sarah. I'm a little surprised that he's out here when JAG is short two senior attorneys, but then again, he is in charge…of course that still doesn't explain why he is _here._

The admiral sighs. "I was talking to Mac yesterday and she asked me about when Marcella was pregnant with Francesca—about morning sickness…I told her it was pretty mild, and I didn't like Mac's response."

"Oh?"

"She threw up."

 _Oh lord, Sarah must have been mortified._ "She did?" _Where was I during this? Oh, right. It was probably when I went to the store with Mom to get stuff for dinner. But Sarah told me she hadn't—_ Dammit, Sarah! _You need to learn to trust me with these things!_

"Are you done?" The admiral is staring at me pointedly; he must have been trying to talk to me while I was, uh…ruminating. I nod at him.

"As I was saying, she threw up, and then she let it slip that she'd hardly kept anything down for the last couple of days."

"She told you that?" _Why hadn't she said anything to me?_ I have to admit that I'm more than a little hurt by this.

The admiral nods. "Well, to be fair, I ordered her to tell me what was going on…threatened to transfer you to Alaska if she didn't."

"Oh, thanks," I mumble, but at his glare I stand up straighter and add a crisp, 'sir.'

He rolls his eyes a bit. "Harm, I know you're upset that she obviously kept this from you and your parents, but it's hard to break a habit…both of you can't help trying to protect each other."

He has a point…and I think Sarah is a little extra sensitive about things right now. Yes, she's pregnant, but I think it has more to do with the whole Sadik situation and her role in it. She doesn't want to give me any reason to worry…but, newsflash, Sarah—I'm always going to worry, especially now that you're carrying my child.

It's my turn to sigh. "True enough, AJ," I say, and to my own ears I sound rather pathetic. But I can't dwell on any of that right now; we need to get Sarah to a doctor. "Give me a hand, AJ?" I ask, motioning to my injured arm. He nods, and together we head back into the bedroom.

Sarah lies on the bed, eyes closed. It's funny, I've always thought of her as 'Mac,' but since we found out about the baby, she's been Sarah. I still call her Mac from time to time, and when we're back at JAG I'll still use Mac. But when it's just us…she's Sarah.

Sarah must have dozed off while I was talking to the admiral. I hate to disturb her, but the sooner we get her to the hospital, the sooner she can feel better. I give her shoulder a little rub and her eyes flutter open. She blinks at me a moment, then grimaces. "Motherfucker, Harm. What in God's name did I do to deserve this shit?"

I cringe a little, knowing the admiral is right behind me, but then again, the man was a SEAL. I'm sure he's heard worse, although I will maintain till my dying day that marines are far more vulgar than sailors. I throw a glance over my shoulder, which Sarah follows. Her eyes widen, but without missing a beat, she meets his and says, "Oh, sorry. Motherfucker, _sir."_

I chuckle a bit, but I know she'll be mortified when she's more herself and realizes she swore in front of her CO. Sarah really isn't one for profanity. She's a true lady…but I'll never tell her that to her face. I really _don't_ want my eyeballs on a skewer.

I feel the admiral's hand on my shoulder. He motions to Sarah, saying, "Let me, Harm." I step aside and, as if Sarah weighs nothing, he scoops her up and carries her out the door.

Sarah can only rest her head on AJ's shoulder, telling him sleepily that she's sorry for her unbecoming behavior. Her voice sounds so raw and weak and I feel my eyes burn with tears. She's not the only one who is a little extra sensitive after our recent experiences.

AJ whispers something in her ear that I don't catch, but she gives him a small smile and relaxes in his arms. I realize that I'm not the least bit jealous…it's obvious that AJ Chegwidden feels a fatherly type of concern toward Sarah. I find myself glad that their relationship seems to be repaired; I know they talked a lot while she was out here getting therapy and I was on the _Henry._ In a way I'm hurt that she could talk to him and not to me, but I do understand…I was way too close to the situation and I know I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from trying to rescue her. As painful as it is to admit it, I wasn't what she needed then.

As we head down the stairs, I hear Sarah mumble something to the admiral that sounds like, "How's Maria?"

Despite the current situation, I still expect him to balk at any personal questions. Instead, I hear him tell her in a gentle tone, "You would know better than I would at the moment."

"Yeah, but that's different. She's my shrink."

 _What? The admiral and Dr. Carmen?_

Well, isn't that interesting…

* * *

 _1634 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

Sarah is finally settled in a room on the obstetrical floor. She's definitely dehydrated, has lost more weight, and currently has IV fluids and anti-nausea medication flowing through her veins. After a couple of liters of fluids in the ER, in addition to what she's getting now, her color is a little better and she doesn't sound so weak. As far as the baby is concerned, it's too early to really do any monitoring. She's on this floor mainly because they know how to handle something called hyperemesis gravidarum. Basically, it's severe morning sickness that has gotten way out of hand. They tell us it may get better in the second trimester, but in some women, it can last the whole pregnancy. I pray to God that won't be the case for my Sarah.

I look down at her sleeping form. She's been dozing off and on since the ER; I think some of the medications they gave her have made her drowsy. Of course, she certainly has many reasons to be worn out. When we arrived here, she had another bout of vomiting to the point that I think it actually hurt. She's still bruised up from her confrontation with Sadik, so that probably didn't help, either. It also didn't help that they inferred that I had made those marks on her. That upset Sarah, but the admiral stepped in and set them straight. He left shortly after that to meet the not-so-mysterious Maria.

After a few minutes of just watching Sarah, I decide to use the restroom. When I come out, she's awake and gives me a wan smile.

I sit back down by her bed and take her hand. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hey," she whispers. She's obviously still exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" My thumb makes little circles on the back of her hand as she thinks about my question for a few beats.

"Better."

She must have seen my look of skepticism. "No, really, Harm. It's nice not to feel like I'm going to throw up my lung for once."

"Sarah?"

"Yeah, Harm?" she asks warily.

"Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?" Sarah looks at me and shrugs, then turns away, trying to take her hand with her. I don't let her.

"Sarah, sweetheart, I'm not upset…I'm just…just…" I actually don't know what I am. I'm hurt, frustrated, but not upset. I am terribly worried though. It has been so hard to watch her go through this, knowing that I'm the one who's done it to her, and I can't even do anything to help. "I was just so…um, scared, t-today…" My voice trails off, and I'm just a little mortified that a few tears have formed in my eyes and are now spilling down my cheeks. I swipe at them, hoping she doesn't notice. I realize immediately that the hope is ridiculous. I'm sitting right by her and she's looking right at me.

"I-I'm s-sorry, H-harm." She turns her face away and her frail body shakes with sobs. I feel like a heel, even though I don't think I've said or done anything stupid today. _Well, you did leave her this morning…_

I gather her up in my arms and she shudders against me. This poor woman has gone through so much lately, we both have, and I think we could use a break. I don't think either of us has our normal resilience and now this… "Shhh, baby. It's okay. It's okay," I croon, kissing the top of her head and rocking her a little. My injured arm protests a bit, but it's merely a twinge compared to the pain I feel rolling off Sarah.

Finally, she calms, and I feel her hold on me loosening. I pull her close again, not letting her escape. There are a few gasping breaths and another whispered apology. I kiss her hair and tell her she has nothing to be sorry for. She shakes her head.

"Oh, Harm…first I don't have any idea that I'm pregnant, then I can't even do it right."

"Honey, none of this is your fault. Like the doc said, this happens—"

"Not to Harriet."

"Harriet is a different person. And let's face it, you've already had a rough few weeks…months, really. I'm sure that doesn't help. We'll get through this and repeat after me: "It's. Not. My. Fault." She does repeat it back, but I don't think she really believes it.

* * *

 _1818 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

Sarah has fallen asleep again. A nurse was in a few minutes ago to give her more anti-nausea medication as her symptoms were worsening again, and they want to keep ahead of it. I can tell she is absolutely worn out. I hope she'll sleep for the rest of the day and then through the night, but I suppose that is asking a bit much, knowing what a typical night in a hospital is like.

I step out into the hall to call Mom and Frank and update them. They send us their love and promise to stop by in the morning. I should probably try to find something to eat, but if Sarah wakes up, I don't want her to be alone. I settle for a package of trail mix from the vending machine down the hall. I open it and start munching; it tastes stale but it's better than nothing.

Returning to Sarah's room, I am relieved to find her still asleep. She looks tiny in her blue hospital gown. A hand rests on her stomach where our baby grows, and the delicate bones of her wrist look bird-like in the waning sunlight. Her knuckles still show the evidence of her fight with Sadik. I know that under her gown there is a large, yellowing bruise on her left shoulder where he hit her. There is still a faint bruise on her right cheekbone; he backhanded her there, starting their battle. She has many other bruises and cuts over her body and I have kissed each and every one of them, trying to soothe away the horror of it all. I know I can't though, not really. I am filled with the need to protect this woman and I want to chase away her demons, her nightmares, but I'm afraid I won't be enough. The last year has taken such a heavy toll on her, and though I have the utmost faith in her to overcome, I worry there will always be a part of her that will stay trapped in the dark place that was Paraguay.

And then there are my own demons…god knows I've had them since I was six…but those involving my father have largely been laid to rest. Mac helped me through those, kept me alive, just as she saved me the night I went after Diane's killer. My nightmares from Paraguay and the time spent with the CIA are not as frequent or severe as they once were, but that whole time still haunts me. I try to keep it from Sarah, but I probably shouldn't; I know it hurts her when I fail to confide in her. It's a habit I'm trying to break, I really am. It's just so hard to do when I see the pain of what she's gone through reflected in her eyes.

Sarah stirs in her sleep, letting out a little whimper. I watch her for a few moments, hoping she'll settle, but it becomes obvious she's having another nightmare. I lean over her and run my hand comfortingly over her shoulder and arm, then stroke her hair. She's getting more agitated, however, and, though I know her nurses won't approve, I slide into the bed behind her. My injured arm makes it a bit awkward, but I soon manage to spoon her as I wrap my other arm around her. I cover her legs with my own; pulling her close to me like this always helped when we were together, before we were actually _together._ Back then, it was the only time she would really let me hold her. Of course, I never wanted her to have nightmares, but I did relish those times when her body would finally relax against mine. I would think that this was how we always should have been. I would inhale the heady scent of her hair as I pressed my lips to the silken strands. I would let my fingers trail over her skin, trying to soothe away her fear. And then I would slip out of her bed, pull on my clothes, and just walk away.

I have had many regrets in my life, and my treatment of Sarah after Paraguay is one of the biggest.

As I lie there with her, I am struck by how fragile Sarah feels in my arms. 'Fragile' is not a word I ever thought I would use to describe my marine. She's always been a tough as nails, take no prisoners kind of woman, someone who I would want at my side during a firefight. This last year…well, as I've said so many times before, it has stolen so much from us. I vow as she snuggles closer that I will do everything in my power to make Sarah happy and whole again.

I slide my hand down low on her belly to where our child rests, thanking God they are both safe. As I drift off to sleep, I also pray to God that I can keep them that way.

* * *

 _2024 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

I wake to the sound of someone moving about in the bathroom and then realize I'm alone in the bed. I struggle to my feet as I hear the toilet flush, wondering why Sarah didn't wake me so I could help her. The bathroom door opens, and she steps out, dragging her IV pole behind her, jumping as she notices me. I immediately go to her, wrapping my arm around her waist. "Sarah," I say, "why didn't you wake me?"

She snorts. "Harm, I'm a marine. I learned how to go to the potty by myself before I was three. I had it covered." She looks up at me. "And if my grunting and groaning getting out from under you didn't wake you up, I doubt anything would."

"Maybe…but you should have—"

" _Harm!"_ she says, and I'm taken aback but also pleased at her authoritative voice.

"Okay, okay, Ninja Girl. Just didn't want you to hurt yourself." I notice then that she's a little tremulous, but I don't make a comment. I just lead her over to the bed and get her settled in again, then sit myself down in the chair I was using before.

"Hey, Flyboy, why don't you climb back in?" She pats the spot beside her.

"I don't want to press my luck with your nurses."

"They didn't seem to mind when they were in here earlier." _I missed that too?_ She smiles at me a bit impishly, and my heart warms to see her looking more like her normal self. The moment is short-lived, however; in the next second, she's reaching for the hospital's version of a barf bag and emptying her stomach contents again. She's only had a little water and 7-Up since we've been here, so most of it is bile and stomach acid. Once she finishes, I hand over her cup of water so she can rinse her mouth.

"I'm getting a little sick of that," she sighs, falling back into her pillow after I take the barf bag from her. The bag has marks on it so one can measure the volume of vomit, and I dutifully note how much is in there before dumping the contents into the toilet and tossing the bag in the trash. I wash my hands then step out of the bathroom, asking her, "Hey, sweetie, how much did you pee?" They want to keep track of how much goes in and out of Sarah. She tells me, and I mark both numbers down on a sheet clipped to her bed.

She's looking at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Harm."

"It's okay, baby," I say as I sit back down beside her. I flash her my best flyboy grin, as she calls it. "Now you know this is true love."

She studies me thoughtfully and her eyes get all soft. "Yes, it is," she says, slipping her hand into mine.

* * *

 _March 23rd, 2018_

 _0815 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

Morning breaks with the sound of someone vomiting. It's Sarah, of course, and once again I'm left feeling rather impotent that I can't fix this for her. I know they've given her more medication, but it obviously hasn't kicked in yet. Once again, she is tearful and that breaks my heart too.

I spent the night on a fold-down sofa bed; it was hard as a rock of course, but I'm glad they have something for spouses and the like to sleep on. I climb out of bed and all I can do is rub her back as her body spasms, trying to blink back my own tears that have formed. I don't think _I've_ ever cried so much in my life, not even when I was a kid, as I have in the last few months.

I do feel terribly guilty about all of this; I am, after all, the one who got her pregnant. I whisper 'I'm sorries' to her; she shakes her head before she heaves again. Finally, it passes, and she flops back, exhausted. I take the bag from her and dispose of it, mark the volume of it on her paper, and get back to her side as soon as I can. She looks me in the eye.

"Harm, it's not your fault."

"Oh, really?" I say, trying for a little levity. "Then whose fault is it?" I watch her face crumble and I know immediately that I've said absolutely the wrong thing.

"Sarah, honey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I was just trying to make a joke, a piss-poor joke, but a joke. Shhh, sweetheart. I'm sorry." I want to kick myself or cut out my tongue. I know she carries a lot of guilt about how her various relationships have ended…Dalton, Mic, Clay…and then there was the incident before she left for San Diego. We'd fought, and I'd come over to her apartment to check on her and apologize. Instead, Clayton Webb was there, and my mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. I refused to talk to her that night, and I know it broke her heart. She always takes on too much responsibility for anything that goes wrong around her, and that whole situation was no different.

It's at that moment, as I try to soothe the still sobbing mother of my child, that the admiral walks in. Behind him is the petite figure of Sarah's therapist, Dr. Maria Carmen. She just looks concerned, but AJ looks…pissed. His glare could burn a hole in someone, and I have the sudden urge to look down and make sure there isn't, in fact, a smoldering crater in my chest. The message is clear: _'What did you do to her now?'_ I can only shrug before turning back to Sarah, leaning down and whispering in her ear that she has visitors. She takes a few deep breaths and lets out a shaky, "Hi."

The admiral glares at me for a second longer then turns his attention to Sarah. His expression immediately softens and I almost… _almost,_ roll my eyes. I mean, I don't _really_ want to die today.

"Hey, Mac." He gives her a gentle smile and I move out of the way so he can sit down next to her. He pats her hand and asks, "How are you doing?"

Mac returns the smile, although it is a pretty weak version of her normal one. "I've been better, sir."

AJ pats her hand again. "It's AJ here, Mac."

"Okay, I've been better, AJ. How are you two?" Her smile brightens a bit at that, but as AJ starts to answer her, she's hit with more nausea and frantically grabs for another barf bag. She's fumbling a bit so AJ grabs it for her and I'm shocked when he actually holds it for her as she retches. I think I'm seeing what he wishes he could have done with his own daughter, Francesca. He wasn't around much when she was growing up and I'm sure it bothers him. I don't believe, however, that AJ is just projecting his fatherly feelings onto Sarah. He truly cares for her and in an unguarded moment as we drove to JAG to find Sarah after her confrontation with Sadik, he told me how much he regretted the whole Paraguay situation. That fiasco has had so many far-reaching effects…I don't think anyone around us has been spared.

Dr. Carmen, Maria, comes up beside me and asks if I've eaten anything yet this morning. I shake my head and she calls to AJ once Sarah is relaxed again. "AJ, dear," I smirk to myself. "Why don't you take Harm down to the cafeteria and I'll take care of Mac for a while." She steps up and takes the bag of vomit from AJ awhile Sarah weakly protests; it's hard enough for her to let me take care of such things. Maria waves away Sarah's objections as she looks meaningfully at AJ.

AJ looks reluctant, but he gets up anyway, quickly washes his hands, and motions to me. "Well, let's go, Rabb." I think he's still pissed about the scene he walked in on, so I'm a bit reluctant too. Admiral Chegwidden I can handle. I'm not so sure about Papa AJ.

* * *

 _0838 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

AJ and I grab some semi-edible items in the cafeteria and have a seat in the dining area. I take a drink of surprisingly good coffee and wait for AJ to lay into me. He stares at me for a while and I impressively refrain from squirming. Finally, he speaks. "What the hell did you do, Rabb?"

"Um…I knocked her up, sir." I grin winningly at him. Obviously I'm a moron with a death wish.

He sighs. "You said something stupid, didn't you."

I may as well come clean…to a point. "Yes, sir, I did." I notice he doesn't ask me to call him AJ today.

"Dammit, Rabb. Do better." I wait for him to say something else and am surprised when he doesn't. We sit in awkward silence for a minute and I decide to risk my life again.

"Soooo, you and Dr. Carmen?"

AJ rolls his eyes, but I don't miss the little glint in his eye. I chance a smile. "She's really great, sir." She truly is. She's helped Sarah a lot.

AJ sighs again. "Call me AJ, Harm." _Good. I'm Harm again_. He doesn't say anything for several seconds, then he breaks into a sheepish smile. "And yes, she is."

Sarah had told me that AJ had known Maria through Sydney Walden, an ex-girlfriend. He obviously thought very highly of her to trust one of his officers to her care. "So, when did this happen?" I ask, not really expecting an answer. He surprises me again, though.

"When I called her to tell her about Mac, we talked for a while longer after we made arrangements for Mac's counseling. I was, ah, reminded that she is quite a lovely person. I called her back later that night…and we talked for over two hours. I always enjoyed seeing her when she was still in Washington, but I was involved with Sydney then…turns out the feeling was mutual." He gets a triumphant smile on his face and I know I'm sitting there with my mouth gaping open. That is the most personal information he's ever shared with me. Ever. Oh lord, I think the admiral is in love.

"I'm very happy for you, sir, uh, AJ." And I am. God knows he and I have had our issues over the last couple of years, but we're moving beyond them, I think. I'm grateful for what he has done for Sarah in the last couple of months, and I'm glad they are on good terms again. She honestly thought she didn't matter to him…to anyone at JAG, really. She was deeply hurt by his behavior during and after Paraguay; it was a terrible blow to her to believe that the man she looked up to as a father didn't care about her. AJ is finally convincing her otherwise.

"Thanks, Harm." He claps me on the shoulder. "She's…well, you know how it is…" I know exactly how it is. AJ Chegwidden is smitten.

We finish our food and get up to throw away our trash. "Do you think we've been gone long enough?" he asks me, and I answer in the affirmative. Truthfully, I need to get back to Sarah. I'm getting nervous and antsy and being with her, making sure she is okay, is the only thing that will calm me down at the moment.

* * *

 _0944 Local_

 _Naval Medical Center San Diego_

 _San Diego, CA_

Maria is sitting in the chair next to Sarah's bed. The two of them look to be in deep conversation, but Sarah looks up as we walk in and I'm rewarded with a brilliant smile. The medications must have finally kicked in, or maybe she is just that happy to see me…yes, that must be it.

"Hey, sweetie, the meds finally kicked in."

 _Oh, so it was the meds. Damn._ I flash her a grin. "But you're still happy to see me, right?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her, and she gives an unladylike snort. She also blushes, which just makes her too cute.

The four of us talk about anything and everything for the next hour until the admiral stands. Holding out his hand for Maria, he turns and tells us that it was time they left so Sarah can get some rest. Maria stands as well and puts her hand on Sarah's. "Remember what we talked about, Mac," she says softly. Sarah nods and the two of them walk out the door. I have to smile when Maria slips her hand into the admiral's and he doesn't let go. She's a lot shorter than he is, younger too, and well, _friendlier,_ but I have a good feeling about this.

"What's that smile about, Flyboy?" She pats the bed beside her and I sit down, setting my cup of coffee to the side and putting my arm around her. She leans back with a contented sigh.

"Oh, the admiral…they're cute together."

"I'll tell AJ the next time I see him that you think he's cute."

I give her a warning glare. "Not _him,_ my Ninja Girl. _Them."_

She laughs a little and the sound is music to my ears. "You don't think she's too young for him?" She quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Not at all."

"That's not what you said a few days ago about Jen and Gunny…and I'm betting the age difference is bigger with AJ and Maria."

PO Coates and Gunny, aka Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, met on Christmas Eve and have been dating ever since. I look at Jen like she's a little sister. Mac knows this, and she also knows my protective streak tends to go a little overboard when it involves 'family.' I shrug. "That's different."

"How?"

I think for a minute. "AJ and Maria are adults," I say triumphantly, knowing full well my argument is full of so many holes.

She laughs again, and I hope I keep amusing her this much so I can keep hearing that all-too-rare sound. "So are Gunny and Jen."

I just roll my eyes and look at her cross-eyed with my tongue out. I hope no one else sees this, I mean, I have a reputation to uphold, but Sarah is giggling again. Mission accomplished. I laugh too and then reach for my coffee and start to take a sip.

"They're engaged, you know."

Sarah's simple statement causes me to spit out my drink. _"What?!"_

She smiles sweetly at me. "Yes, he asked her last week. She said yes."

"How do you know this?"

"Gunny emailed me and told me he was going to ask. He sort of wanted to ask _somebody_ for her hand, and you were TAD with a communications blackout. I was the next logical choice. I told him to storm the beaches."

"Why?" Okay, I'm being a little ridiculous here, but Jen is just a…grown woman who can make her own choices. And if I'm being honest with myself, Victor Galindez is one of the most honorable men I have ever known. He will take care of Jen, not that she really needs it, but Jen deserves someone like him.

Sarah is just looking at me with her eyebrow raised.

"Well, I will have to tell them both 'congratulations.'" She smiles at me then relaxes against my chest again.

We rest like that for a good fifteen minutes, just enjoying the closeness, but then Sarah starts to fidget. "You okay, honey?" I press my lips to her hair.

"Yeah, I just…I mean…I need to talk to you about what Maria and I talked about." She turns her head so she can look up at me. I feel a little apprehensive, but I nod and tell her to go on. She's quiet for another minute before she starts to speak.

"I feel like I'm failing our baby."

"Oh, sweetheart…" I pull her a little closer.

"I know I can't help…this," she motions to the bed we sit on, "but I still feel like I should be doing something _better._ "

I hold my tongue for the moment. I desperately want to tell her there is no way she'll fail our baby, but I sense she has more to say.

"I know we talked about it already, but I feel so guilty about being pregnant for so many weeks and not knowing it. I didn't recognize the signs for what they were, I didn't even realize that I had missed more than one period. I didn't mean to forget to take my birth control…but I did and I didn't even think about it until that ER doc told me I was pregnant. I could have lost her, Harm. The fight with Sadik. The carbon monoxide…who knows what effects she might have from that? What if I've ruined things for her before she's even born?"

"You know I don't blame you for any of that, don't you?" I'm so afraid I'll say the wrong thing here, but I want her to know, and also _believe,_ that she is not responsible for what happened. The blame lies solely on Sadik. Sarah doesn't answer me. I nudge her shoulder. "Sarah?"

"I feel like I betrayed you," she says, so softly I almost don't hear her.

"Why, baby?"

"That's just it…the baby. You thought I was on the pill. We didn't plan this…I feel like I trapped you, and then your baby could be born with problems…"

It's time to be firm. "Sarah, first off, I love you. The fact that you are carrying my child only makes me love you more. I don't feel trapped; I've wanted this baby with you for almost five years now and so many times it seemed like it wouldn't or couldn't happen. And here we are…we made good on our deal. And sweetheart, I know we can't predict the future, but I feel deep in my soul that our baby is going to be just fine."

Sarah is quiet, but a little sniffle tells me she is crying again. I hold her as close as I can, vowing that someday we'll only cry tears of happiness. I know that isn't realistic, but until my last breath, I will fight for it. A thought suddenly occurs to me. "You said she…do you know something I don't?"

"Um, what? Oh, no…I just have a feeling…"

I kiss her hair again. "You know what? I think she's a girl too." I then feel her finally relax into my body and I enjoy just holding her. After several minutes, just when I think she may have fallen asleep, she whispers, "Honey, can you help me to the bathroom and then get me a ginger ale?"

Uh-oh. She must be feeling sick again. "Nausea coming back?" I don't think she can have any more medication for another half hour or so.

"It never really goes away…it just gets more tolerable," she sighs. She's weary of it, I know.

I slide out of the bed, and I'm just about to help her out of it when a new person walks in. "Hello, may I come in?" She comes in before either of us can even nod. I don't know why doctors bother to ask…they always come in anyway. The blue-eyed doctor has dark auburn hair pulled back into an intricate braid and looks to be a little shorter than Mac. The name on the badge reveals her to be Commander Josie Markham, MD. I see the word 'Obstetrics' embroidered on her white coat.

"Colonel MacKenzie?" Sarah nods. "Hi, I'm Dr. Markham." She reaches out and shakes both our hands. "I took over for Dr. Winters, so I'll be overseeing your care while you're here. How's the nausea?" She picks up the pages where Sarah's 'Ins and Outs' are and peruses them.

Sarah grimaces. "It's definitely there…never has completely gone away, but the medication helps."

"Good…keeping liquids down?"

"Mostly…until the meds wear off."

"Have you eaten anything?"

Sarah looks over at me. "Um, just a few crackers he," she nods in my direction, "made me eat."

"How did that go?"

"Okay…but I got the impression if I ate anymore than the three or four I had, I'd have my face in a barf bag."

The doctor smiles sympathetically at that. "Well, I'm going to tweak your medications a bit and we'll try for some clear to full liquids today. The crackers are fine too if you keep doing okay with those. Don't push it, but I would really like to see you eating decently before you go. Some patients in your situation end up needing nutrition through IV's and I really hope we can avoid that. But, as I said, don't push it."

I look meaningfully at my marine. _You hear that, Sarah? DON'T push it,_ I tell her with my eyes and she nods slightly. Then Dr. Markham completely changes the subject.

"When's the last time you urinated?"

Sarah tells her she was just about to go.

"Hold that thought…I want an ultrasound today. You had one in DC already, right?"

"Um, last week…in the ER. It was just a quick one." Sarah's ultrasound in the Georgetown ER was an uncomfortable experience…they did it transva—you know what, I'm not even going to think about that. Sarah told me the tech performing the ultrasound wasn't the most gentle, barely pointed out the baby on the screen, then left before printing even one picture. I notice my heart is pounding a little. I can't wait to see my baby 'live' so to speak.

"Well, this one will be pretty quick too. I just want to confirm your dates, listen to the heartbeat." Dr. Markham looks toward the door. "We'll get started when Shannon gets here with the ultrasound machine." At that moment, one of the nurses who was in here earlier wheels in the appropriate equipment. Dr. Markham pulls the machine closer to her and has Sarah lie back as she raises the bed up a bit. She then pulls up Sarah's gown and tucks a towel into the waistband of Sarah's underwear.

She takes a squeeze bottle from the ultrasound cart and shakes it a few times. "Cold gel," she warns and Sarah jumps a little at the chill as the bluish gel makes contact with her skin. I reach out and grab her hand as Dr. Markham puts the probe down low on Sarah's belly. Almost instantly, I see an oddly shaped object resting in a dark oval area. It's my turn to jump as the object suddenly moves and it hits me…this is our baby. I watch in awe as a short little limb that must be her leg juts out and then she seems to roll over on herself. I know that we won't be able to tell the sex of the baby for several weeks yet, but I'm even more certain now that this is a girl.

Dr. Markham does a few quick measurements and confirms that Sarah is indeed ten weeks along. Ten weeks, three days to be exact (actually plus or minus a few days). Then she asks us if we'd like to hear the heartbeat. I look over at Sarah and I'm sure we both look like kids in a candy store as we nod.

The doctor fiddles with a few knobs and then there it is…our baby's heartbeat. It sounds like so much galloping and tapping all at once, and it's so very fast. There are tears in my eyes as Sarah's hand tightens around mine. I look down at her, and what I see makes my tears fall.

Sarah is crying too, but on her face is a look of wonder and…I've never seen that expression on her face, haven't seen anything even approaching it since long before she left for Paraguay.

It's a look of pure, unadulterated joy.

 _End Chapter 1_


	2. Hold Me Tight

_A/N: Chapter 2! I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I spent it with my girls and my parents and brother, and also my almost 90-year-old grandmother. And yes, macattack102712…I did get her a little tipsy. She said it was her medications…but we both know better. :)_

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 2: Hold Me Tight**

 _September 21_ _st_ _, 2004_

 _0904 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

A delicate cry from my new daughter rouses me from my reverie. She really makes the sweetest little sounds; from the first tiny squawk after her birth as they placed her on Sarah's chest to the little snuffling sounds she makes as she sleeps, I have been utterly charmed. Lydia's cry rouses Sarah as well and she is almost immediately awake, reaching for our daughter. AJ hands her over and as Sarah prepares to feed Lydia, he tells her he will come back later this afternoon. She smiles up at him and he leans forward to kiss her cheek with fatherly affection. "She's beautiful, Mac."

"Thank you, AJ." She looks down at her baby with that joyous look of wonder she had when she first really saw Lydia on ultrasound.

AJ softly touches my daughter's cheek before he straightens up and heads for the door. Clapping his big hand on my shoulder as he passes by, he tells me, "Good work, Harm." I give him a big smile in thanks and stand a little taller. The truth is, I'm so proud right now of both Sarah and Lydia that I feel like running up and down the National Mall shouting my good fortune for all to hear. I'm so proud that, oh lord, I'm choking up again. Surreptitiously, I brush an errant tear away, hoping that Sarah doesn't notice.

"You okay, Flyboy?" _Damn._

I sit down beside her on the bed, putting my arm around her shoulders and drawing her in to kiss her ear. "I'm perfect, Ninja Girl."

Sarah turns her face toward me to kiss my jaw before turning back to our hungry daughter. She's starting to fuss, and it is about as adorable as you would imagine. I watch as Mac moves part of her hospital gown aside and raises Lydia to her breast. Lydia latches on and begins suckling aggressively, if Sarah's expression is anything to go by. "Does it hurt?" I ask her, rather in awe of her body's capabilities. She scrunches up her face, thinking.

"Yeah, a bit…mostly it's just weird." We watch Lydia in silence for a few minutes as she has her lunch, then Sarah says something that gets my attention. "Hmmm, I wonder when my milk will actually come in?"

Of course, this sends me into a concerned tizzy. "What? So, she's not getting anything? Do you need to do something? Do I-uh, do _we_ need to do something? Maybe we should call her doctor…or I guess your doctor…I mean, they are your boobs…"

I sit there, my thoughts consumed with my wife's breasts—and not in the usual way, my mind going a hundred miles a minute. Is our baby starving? Do we need formula? Good god this parenting is complicated! I realize then that Sarah is calling my name. "Uh, what, honey?"

She's smirking at me and I blush, knowing I got a little carried away just now. "Are you done?"

I nod sheepishly.

"Harm…this is normal. My 'boobs,' as you call them, are fine. Milk doesn't come in for a couple of days or so. She's getting colostrum now, and anyway, her stomach's the size of the tip of my thumb. She doesn't need much. Remember, we read about this?"

I have a vague memory of reading something about that, but as I recall all that talk about breastfeeding led me to think about breasts, specifically Sarah's breasts, and, well, you can guess what happened next. "Then why are you worried about it?" I ask.

She smiles at me. "I'm not…I was just wondering…"

"Oh," I reply, not knowing what else to say. I watch Sarah as she finishes feeding Lydia then expertly cradles our baby to her shoulder to burp her.

Sarah is a natural mother. It was obvious from the first moment she held the slippery, squirming form of our daughter. Her hold on Lydia was immediately loving, tender, and protective and now she already seems in tune with what Lydia wants and needs. I know Sarah had and has fears about her ability to be a mother; it's not like she had the greatest of role models. I've told her that she will never be anything like her own mother. Sarah won't ever leave Lydia, won't abandon our child as Sarah's mother abandoned her, but Sarah still doubts herself.

I have always found it hard to fathom how Deanne MacKenzie could have left Sarah to fend for herself, how she could have left her only child to deal with an abusive and alcoholic father alone. Sarah's ability to trust, even to trust herself, was nearly destroyed by her parents, and it breaks my heart to see her still struggle with that today. It also breaks my heart to know that my behavior over the years has also contributed to her strife.

And then there is the part of me that can't completely regret the events of Sarah's early life; if they hadn't unfolded as they had, I might never have met her. I suppose I wouldn't know what I was missing; however, somehow, I think I'd still know there was a gaping hole in my soul.

My wife is now cuddling our little girl close, whispering secrets to her as I cuddle them both. I can feel the familiar tightness in my throat and sting of my eyes that herald tears. I'm a little embarrassed that I'm so emotional…but life is so beautiful now and we were so close to losing it all.

Sarah and I have come through a gauntlet of sorts; her demons, mine, the after effects of our experiences with Sadik Fahd, and my own breakdown over my time in the CIA. I had thought, despite the rare nightmares and the occasional dark, intrusive thoughts, that I had largely put that time behind me. I had been through counseling, still met with my counselor on occasion, and life was going better than it had a right to.

But then the flashbacks started, triggered by, of all things, Sarah's pregnancy. As is my MO, I retreated from Sarah, not wanting to drag her into my problems or make her take on even more guilt about the state of our lives. By doing that, my problems only increased. Sarah was hurt, I spiraled, and Sarah felt terribly guilty anyway. We went to couples counseling after that; neither of us doubted our love and trust in each other, but given years of communication blunders, we decided some help in that arena was in order.

Yes, so many things have happened since that fateful morning in March when we learned of Lydia's existence. Sarah moved in with me, we bought a house, we got married…it's been trying, overwhelming at times, but it's also been beautiful, wonderful, magical…I could go on. I gaze down at the two most important people in my life. Mac looks up at me, giving me a soft smile. "What are you thinking about, sailor?"

I lean down and give her a little kiss. "Nothing really…just thinking about how far we've come in the last year." Sarah nods and looks back down at Lydia.

We sit in silence together as our baby sleeps in her mother's arms, but it isn't long before I hear a little sniffle from Sarah. My gaze drops to her now tear-streaked face. "What's the matter, baby?"

Sarah shakes her head. "N-nothing. I'm just so happy."

I pull her closer to me. "Me too, sweetheart." A year ago, I was a bitter ex-navy lawyer and pilot who'd lost the best friend I'd ever had, the woman I'd loved for years. I was tortured by memories of my life in the Company and I'd isolated myself from everyone that cared about me. Now, I am once again a navy lawyer, sometime fighter pilot. I've reestablished relationships with my parents and friends, and I sit here holding the most precious people in my life. I must have done something right to be given back of all of this and more.

"We really have come far, haven't we?" Sarah whispers softly.

I kiss her hair again. "Yes, we have, sweetheart."

"But it wasn't easy." She sounds rather sad. I hope she isn't dwelling on the painful parts of the last year and a half.

"No, it wasn't…but we made it."

She's looking down again, but I don't think she's focused on our daughter. "Sarah?"

She doesn't answer right away, but then she sighs and slumps a bit. "I'm sorry. Harm. I keep thinking about what could have happened…I thought once I held Lydia, knew that she was okay, I'd stop worrying. Or at least I could just worry about how Lydia could be affected by the early CO exposure…we probably won't really know for sure everything's okay until she's older and in school."

I just nod, even though she isn't looking at me. I am, though, relieved when she snuggles in closer to me. She keeps talking. " _He_ could have destroyed everything, even from the grave."

By _he_ , she means Sadik. We try not to utter his name, not because we are frightened of it, but because it makes it seem like he is still a corporal being, still has power over us.

"But _he_ didn't. We got help. We are still getting help." It's true. We meet with our counselors every few weeks, and they've helped tremendously.

"I know. Maybe it's just that now that I _am_ actually holding her, I see how much I would have lost and it's so much more than I ever imagined."

I can only hold her close and kiss her hair. I run my hand over Lydia's downy little head, still marveling at how tiny this new person is. I know exactly what Sarah means. Thoughts like that were exactly what drove me to the hospital chapel after the nurse took Lydia to the nursery for a bath and Sarah was getting some much-needed rest. I thanked God, praising him for keeping Sarah and Lydia safe during the delivery.

I told Sarah once that I wasn't an overly religious person, but my grandmother made sure I understood the Bible stories and their meanings, taking me to church with her every Sunday during my summers at her farm. I think as I've gotten older that I'm becoming more of a believer in a higher power. I've seen many horrors, many _recent_ horrors, and yet the beauty of what I've seen lately tells me there has to be a God.

"I do know what you mean, Sarah. We just need to keep talking it through, and someday we'll be able to let all that go." I can't tell her to stop worrying; I think it's natural to be shaken by all that's happened. I would love to tell her that everything with Lydia will be okay, and, while I feel deep down that she will be just fine, Sarah knows I can't give her absolutes.

There is one good thing that has come from all of this, though. Sarah is actually voicing her fears instead of holding them inside. That in itself is remarkable and given that the same goes for me now too…well, that's nothing short of miraculous.

"You're right, Harm," she says so softly that I almost miss it. Normally, I would rib her about admitting that I was actually right about something, but I know she is feeling vulnerable right now. We both are.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"I love you."

I smile and kiss her hair again. "I love you too, Sarah." She leans more into my embrace, and I relish the feel of her against me. She's tired, though, and I whisper in her ear to let me take Lydia so she can rest. I halfway expect her to give me her 'I'm a marine' speech, but over the last few months we've also gotten better about accepting help from each other. Sarah eases all five pounds, four ounces of our daughter into my arms. I shift myself over a bit so Sarah can lay back into the pillows and she almost instantly falls asleep.

I gaze down at the also-sleeping bundle that is our Lydia Rose. A tiny fist rests against the softness of her cheek and I can't resist running a finger over her wispy near-black hair. She doesn't have much of it, which makes sense when both Sarah and I were nearly bald at birth. Her arms and legs, fingers and toes, are long and when I first saw her, she reminded me of a little spider monkey, limbs flailing every which way.

She instantly protested her emergence into the outside world, crying and wailing, demonstrating that there was certainly nothing wrong with her lungs despite being born at thirty-six weeks, two days. The doctors warned us that while most of the time babies born just slightly before thirty-seven weeks are just fine, their lungs can still be a little underdeveloped. Lydia had no such issues. They also told us she may have trouble feeding at first, but she exceeded their expectations with that as well.

But why wouldn't she when her mother is Sarah MacKenzie Rabb?

I settle us in the surprisingly comfortable easy chair the hospital has provided. Lydia startles, her arms shooting up, her hands splaying open and shaking a bit. I cuddle her close and she calms. I'm still overwhelmed at how quickly and completely I've fallen in love with this slip of a girl.

Unfortunately, like Sarah's, my mind goes back to all that we could have lost because of… _him_. Sarah has been hurt the most. There was the obvious—Paraguay and its aftermath, but even after he died, his influence exerted itself on us, on her. The first casualty of it all was Sarah's home, and the next…well, that was worse…

* * *

 _April 29th, 2004_

 _1505 Local_

 _Dulles International Airport_

 _Dulles, VA_

I check my watch again, chagrined that it's only been about three minutes since I last checked. I've been pacing around baggage claim for the last hour or so, and I'm getting impatient. Correction: I am impatient. For good reason.

Sarah is coming home today.

She stayed behind in San Diego when I had to return to duty at JAG HQ. After she got out of the hospital, I was at least able to stay two more weeks, one week extra than I had originally been given. Admiral Chegwidden graciously allowed (ordered) me to stay to make sure Sarah was going to be okay. I was more than happy to. Sarah spent three more weeks with my parents after I left.

She was in the hospital a total of four days. The first two were a little rough, but they finally found a regimen of medications that controlled her nausea and she was able to eat real, if fairly bland, food. She was discharged home and we spent most of the next two weeks resting and talking. Even though Sarah still wasn't feeling all that well, our time together was healing. I hated to leave her, but she still wasn't quite ready to return to duty and I at least felt better knowing she was with my parents rather than home alone in DC where anything could happen.

In the preceding week, it was clear that Sarah was feeling much better. She was far more animated on the phone, and my mom told me she was actually eating regular meals. And now she was coming home to me.

Of course, her plane was late.

I take another turn between the luggage carousels and check my watch again.

"It's only been two minutes since you checked the last time, sailor."

I whip around to see the most incredible of visions before me. The vision drops her bag and flings herself into my arms. I instinctively wrap them around her waist and spin her around as her feet leave the ground and her lips find mine. I'm so glad I'm here in civilian clothes. No need to maintain a respectable distance; I can kiss her and hold her without reprisal. _"Sarah!"_

"Hey, Flyboy." I set her down, my arms still about her. I look deeply into her eyes, and to my shock she bursts into tears. I pull her tight against me, a bit worried now.

"Sarah, Sarah, honey, what's wrong?" I try to pull away a bit, but her arms are locked around me. I give up and just hold her, ignoring the glances I'm getting from passing travelers. Thankfully, the torrents end almost as soon as they start, and she relaxes her hold.

"S-sorry, Harm. I'm just h-happy to see you." Her voice is still a little shaky and she punctuates her words with sniffles.

"If you're sure, Ninja Girl." I'm still a little doubtful that she's telling the whole truth and she must realize that as she tries to reassure me.

"No, really, Harm. I'm not throwing up every five minutes anymore, but I can't seem to stop crying. I'm crying at dog food commercials now." She gives me a rueful little smile as I brush the tears from her face with my thumbs.

"Dog food?" I raise my eyebrow at her.

"Yeah…Jingo…" The tears start to flow again. Poor dear. Jingo was the dog she rescued from euthanasia when he'd outlived his usefulness as a drug-sniffer. He eventually went to her 'little sister' Chloe when Sarah left for the _Guadalcanal_ after the Brumby debacle. He was able to live out his days free at Chloe's grandparents' farm, but Sarah still felt terribly guilty. I remember when Chloe called her to tell her Jingo had passed on, just before the whole Singer mess started…

* * *

 _I'm wandering amongst the shelves of the JAG law library, looking for a particular case precedent. I'm alone here, or at least I think I am…until a delicate sniffle comes from the direction of the back bookshelf. I know that sniffle, despite the fact that she rarely cries in front of me. I make my way back toward her. "Mac?"_

 _She's facing away from me, and I can see her shoulders shaking in the dim light of this secluded corner of the room. "Mac?" I say again. She turns her face to me briefly before whipping back around. "Sarah? What's wrong?" I take her by the shoulders, rubbing my hands up and down her arms. I'm getting worried. She came in late yesterday…I think she had a doctor's appointment…oh god…_

" _Are you—is everything—did the doctor—" I'm sure my face has gone white. If anything ever happened to her…_

 _Mac finally turns fully around. "The doctor? What?" She tries to brush the tears from her face._

 _I gulp. "Um, did the doctor say that something was wrong…with you?"_

 _She looks a little confused. "No…I'm alright…"_

" _But you're crying."_

 _Understanding dawns in her eyes. "Oh…no, it isn't me…Jingo…Chloe just called…Jingo's…gone."_

" _He ran away?" I find that a bit hard to believe. The old dog wasn't the most active._

" _No…he d-died."_

" _Oh, Mac…" I say as I pull her into my arms. We're both in uniform, but I think we'll be excused for this if anyone actually sees us. I rub her back as she cries, a little ashamed that I'm not sorry I have this opportunity to hold her. I really do feel bad about Jingo though; he was a nice old mutt and I know Mac missed him._

 _Before too long, Mac calms. It's getting close to 1700, and as I have plenty of time to work on my case, I ask her if she would like me to come over and cook dinner for her. She hugs me close again and nods. "Thank you, Harm."_

 _I'm a little surprised she agreed to it; I rather expected her to pull the ol' 'I'm a marine' trick. I tell her I'll stop and pick up something to make while she goes home and takes one of her famous bubble baths. Plans thus made, we secure for the evening and head out of JAG._

* * *

That night I had the privilege of holding Sarah while she cried, finally carrying her to her bed when she fell asleep in my arms. And yet it still took us this long to get it together…

"Oh, Sarah…" We hold each other for a while longer before we realize that Sarah's suitcase is the only one left on the carousel. I quickly grab for it and then we're finally our way.

* * *

 _1759 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"So, I've been thinking, Sarah. My apartment isn't the greatest place to start a family…I know we decided you'd move in here since I own the place, but your place has two bedrooms…a bathtub…what do you say we move in there?"

We've been sitting at the table eating Greek takeout. Sarah tells me she's been craving gyros lately, the more tzatziki sauce, the better. I've settled for a salad, but I haven't eaten much of it. I've been having so much fun watching Mac eat with gusto. She has some of the sauce on her lips and it's just too adorable. I realize I'm grinning at her like an idiot and I try to tone it down, but then decide what the hell. It's just such a relief to see her eat. She's still thin, but I can tell she's finally putting on some weight. I'm so glad her hyperemesis doesn't seem to be the kind that lasts the whole pregnancy.

I watch Sarah set down her gyro. Her demeanor has suddenly changed, and she seems to swallow her last bite with difficulty. _Oh no. She must have overdone it._

"Sarah?" All animation is gone from her face. "Are you feeling sick again?"

She shakes her head but doesn't say anything. "Then what is it, Sarah?"

She stares down at her plate for a while. "We agreed to stay here."

"I know, babe, but—"

"Excuse me," she interrupts, and abruptly stands. She turns and stalks off up the stairs to the bedroom. I hear her go into the bathroom, the door almost slamming behind her. I stay seated at the table, bewildered.

It takes me a few more minutes of just sitting there before I realize how dense I'm being. It all boils down to one word. _Sadik._ How could I have been so clueless?

I decide to give Sarah five more minutes before going after her. Thankfully, I don't have to wait that long and within four minutes she is sitting back down at the table. She resumes her meal, albeit without the enthusiasm she demonstrated before. I wait a little longer before speaking. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I wasn't thinking."

She shrugs and goes on eating.

"Sarah? Let's talk about this."

"I want to stay here," she says with finality.

I decide not to fight her. Her apartment is bigger, but we've also talked about buying a house…maybe we need to consider that a little sooner. "Okay, honey, we'll stay here." She nods, and we continue to eat in heavy silence. I feel terrible; I didn't want her to be angry her first night home just because I've been an idiot.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. "Sarah, I _am_ sorry." _Please talk to me, honey._

She sighs. "No, it's okay, Harm. I'm being ridiculous. It's not like he's—he's still there. I need to just get over it."

"Sarah, no one would fault you for not wanting to go back there right away."

"I know, Harm…but I shouldn't let this get to me so much."

 _Uh oh. Sarah's minimizing things again._ This has me concerned. I've witnessed this aspect of her personality in action many a time. I love her bravery and her kick-ass marine persona, but I want her to realize it's okay to be vulnerable around me.

"Sarah—"

Mac gets up and starts gathering up our plates. "Did you want dessert, Harm?" She turns toward the kitchen area without waiting for my answer.

* * *

 _2100 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Sarah slides into bed and immediately cuddles up to me. I'm relieved; she was a bit tense the rest of the evening and that is not what I wanted for our first night back together. I hold her close and it feels so good to have her in my arms again. Her hair smells like apples and something more exotic, her own unique scent that I've missed so much. She places a kiss on my chest. "I've _missed_ you, Harm," she whispers. I drop a kiss to her hair.

"Me too, baby." I sense she has more she wants to say so I keep quiet after that. Several minutes go by before she finally speaks again.

"Harm? I'm sorry about tonight." She sounds near tears, so I roll on my side and wrap myself around her.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, sweetheart. I shouldn't have even suggested that." And I shouldn't have. Frankly, I wouldn't relish living in the place where Sarah had to fight for her life, and as it turned out, our child's life.

"I shouldn't be giving him so much power," she murmurs, slipping a leg in between mine. We're touching intimately now but I'm sure neither of us is thinking about sex at the moment. This is all about comfort. We haven't been together in that manner since before she left for San Diego and I left for the _Henry._ Having done the calculations, that was likely when we conceived our baby as well. Between our respective injuries from our encounters with Sadik and her condition afterwards, we haven't been able to reexperience that pleasure as of yet and I don't think she's quite ready for making love tonight either. I'm okay with that, although feeling her so close is certainly awakening a particular part of me. I guess maybe I am thinking about sex just a little…

I'm about to answer her but I realize she's fallen asleep. I kiss the top of her head again and allow myself to relax, joining her in slumber just a few minutes later.

* * *

 _April 30th, 2004_

 _0655 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"Harm?" I hear Sarah calling from the bedroom as I crack eggs to make her an omelet.

"Yeah, sweetie?" I call over my shoulder.

"Did you bring over any of my uniforms?"

 _Oh, shit._ "I'm sorry, Sarah…I'll get them for you after work—I just have the McLain deposition this morning and then I'll be back." I had yesterday afternoon off to pick her up from the airport and would have taken the whole day off today, but the deposition couldn't be rescheduled. Sarah goes back to work on Monday and I had meant to pick up her uniforms from her apartment long ago, but it had slipped my mind. I wish I'd just grabbed them when I was over there cleaning her place after I got back from San Diego, but frankly seeing the carnage in her apartment rattled me and it was all I could do to sweep up the broken glass and wipe the floor where some of Sadik's bizarre meal had been spilled.

One would have thought that the CIA could have straightened and tidied the place, but I counted myself lucky that they had at least thrown out the remainder of the food. They made a cursory attempt to wipe up the blood that had been spilled, but remnants of it remained and after I finished in the dining area, I made sure to clean every last bit of it up so Sarah wouldn't see it again. I know where Sadik fell when she shot him, so I know whose blood that was. However, there were various specks of what was obviously blood in other places. Some of it had to have been Sarah's. As soon as the cleaning was done, I ran out of there, went home, and proceeded to get drunk on the last bit of beer left in my apartment, after I had drained half a bottle of bourbon, of course. I was hungover the next day, basically functioning but distracted. The admiral called me on it and would have reamed me a new one, but when I told him what I had been doing the day before he just looked at me and told me to go home. As I was about to leave the office, he asked me if there was anything else that needed to be done there. I told him I didn't think so, and after a pause he told me to call him if I needed anything. It was a little surreal, frankly, but I appreciated it.

Sarah comes down the steps from the bedroom dressed in jeans and one of my button-down shirts. "Don't worry about it…I need to do some shopping, so I'll stop by on my way home."

I turn away from my breakfast preparations and narrow my eyes at her. "Are you sure, Sarah? It's no problem." I don't want her to do anything she isn't comfortable with and after yesterday, I didn't figure she would be ready to go there so soon, and certainly not by herself.

Sarah shrugged. "I'll be fine, Harm." Her tone indicated that she didn't really want to discuss it, so I just nodded and turned back to her breakfast. I'm pleased, though, when I feel her wrap her arms around me from behind. I cover her hands with one of mine and give them a squeeze. She lets go as I move her omelet from the pan to a plate. After taking it from me and setting it on the counter, Sarah takes me in her arms again. She stands on tip-toe and brushes her lips against mine before we both work to deepen the kiss. Her tongue sweeps across my lips and I open them, letting her tongue in to duel with mine. God, I've missed her. But unfortunately, duty calls and if I indulge in this too much, I'll be late, and I doubt the admiral will be very forgiving.

We break apart, smiling at each other. She picks up her plate and I grab the tea I've made for the both of us and join her at the table, setting the mugs next to our chairs. Before she can sit down it's my turn to wrap my arms around her from behind. "So, my dear, what are you shopping for today?" I lean my head down to nuzzle her cheek.

I'm surprised when she blushes. "Um…I need some looser pants." Suddenly it becomes clear why she is wearing one of my shirts. I grin and let my hand wander under it. I can feel the top button of her pants is undone, and my hand slides under the waistband. I press it against the firm, slightly rounded mound of her belly, evidence of the child growing beneath.

"Oh, Sarah…" I breathe in her ear. "This is our baby." She nods against my cheek. "I love you so much," I whisper. I want to hold her forever, but she needs to eat, and I need to get moving. My fingers stroke across her abdomen again and I press a kiss to her earlobe before I let her go. We both sit down and she takes a bite of her omelet. She must like it if her smile at the first taste is anything to go by, and I smile back at her, my heart fluttering just a bit. I take a sip of my tea, content just to watch her. Her smile widens and she reaches out her hand to cover mine.

"I love you too, Harm."

* * *

 _1214 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

I'm running a bit later than I had wanted to; the deposition started later than it should have and went longer than I expected. Sarah has a doctor's appointment this afternoon and we may have to change our lunch plans to make it to Bethesda in time. My elevator is broken again so I hoof it up the stairs. I left the Lexus for Sarah today and I saw it parked in its usual spot, so she's at least back from her excursions. I hope she didn't have too much trouble at her apartment; I've been worried about that all morning and I wish she would have waited for me. I open the stairwell door and pull out my key to unlock the door as I head down the hall.

It seems too quiet in the apartment and a quick scan of the living and kitchen areas reveals no Sarah. I step further into my loft and close and lock the door behind me, noting a few bags from Sarah's favorite stores are sitting beside the door. My bedroom is dark; it's sunny out but I must have left the blinds closed this morning. I set my cover on the dining table and head up the stairs, thinking Sarah must be in the bathroom or maybe even resting.

She is doing neither.

Sarah sits in the center of the bed, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her head rests on her knees and she doesn't seem to realize I'm here. I step forward. "Sar—"

"I couldn't do it." She sounds so small and sad.

I think I know what she means, but I ask anyway. "Couldn't do what, sweetheart?"

"I couldn't go in there. I couldn't even go in the front door. He won. Sadik won. That was my home, and I couldn't even get out of the car." Her head dips again and I gently sit down next to her on the bad. I tentatively reach out to touch her arm. I'm caught off guard when she flinches.

"Sarah…"

"Why, Harm? Why couldn't I just go up and get my uniforms? I sat in the parking lot for an hour trying to talk myself into going up there. What the hell kind of marine am I if I can't walk into _my own home?!"_

She starts crying then but this time she lets me touch her and I pull her into my arms, whispering random words of comfort as she sobs against my chest. If I could bring that bastard Sadik back to life just to kill him again, I would.

She calms after several minutes and we sit there for a while, just holding each other. "Sweetheart?" I whisper. "Do you want to go there together tomorrow and pick up your uniforms?" She immediately stiffens.

"No, Harm…"

I think that she still wants to be the strong marine, but she doesn't have to do that with me. "Sarah, I don't mind. We can—"

She pulls out of my arms, scooting up to the head of the bed. "No, Harm. _No!"_

"But Sarah—" Damn her stubborn hide.

"I can't go back there, Harm. Ever. _Ever!"_

 _Oh…_

I move to sit next to her, wrapping my arms around her again, not letting her escape. "You don't have to, Sarah. You never have to if you don't want to."

"B-but it makes me a c-coward."

"Sarah, you are not and have never been a coward. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I'll go get your uniforms tomorrow. We can give it another week or two before we decide what we need to do about your place, okay?"

She stiffens again but nods. "Okay, Harm…but I don't think…"

"I know, honey. We'll just take it one day at a time, but for now, let's go get ready for your doctor's appointment, alright?

She nods again, and I tighten my hold for a few seconds before I let my hand wander down to her growing belly. I caress the little mound a few times and then I leave her to freshen up while I prepare a light lunch that we can eat in the car on the way to her doctor's appointment.

* * *

I give Sarah the promised two weeks before I send her with Harriet for a spa day complete with makeover courtesy of her stylist, Ethan. I, meanwhile, head to her apartment with Sturgis to pack it all up. The admiral somehow finds out about it and joins in, and the three of us quickly move everything out. It's sad…Sarah's place was always so warm and inviting. She truly made it a home and I feel a twinge of rage at the demon that destroyed this for her. It's more than a twinge, really. I wish the bastard was in front of me so I could crush him like a bug. I want to torture him within an inch of his life, bring him back, then do it all again until he's begging me to kill him, and then…I won't. I want him to feel the way Webb must have. I want him to scream and cry, to never know when the final blow will come. I want him to…

A hand on my arm stops my stream of dark thoughts. It's the admiral, and I get the impression he knows exactly what I'm thinking. I'm breathing fast and I can feel my heart pounding, so I take a couple of deep, _slow_ breaths. The admiral nods at me and takes his hand back, and together we head toward our packed vehicles.

That night Sarah and I cried in each other's arms. She cried for the loss of her first real home, I cried over her broken heart, and we both cried for the incredible loss of something else, and so far, that's what hurt the most.

 _End Chapter 2_


	3. It's All Too Much

_A/N: Here is #3! Hope it meets with your approval. It is rated M for mature content and strong language…but the whole thing is rated M so that's OK!_

 _I know stories often have Mac become a judge so that she and Harm can still work in the same building…my story is no different! Sure, it's convenient, but I can also see Mac as a judge._

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 3: It's All Too Much**

 _September 21_ _st_ _, 2004_

 _1011 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

"I love it when you sing—especially that song."

I startle a bit at Sarah's voice. I realize I've been sitting here, holding and rocking Lydia, for nearly an hour. That's amazing to me; my personality is such that I'm unable to sit still or relax my brain for long. I have to be _doing_ something, even if it's just reading. But now here I am, staring down at my daughter's sweet face, perfectly content. She's been awake for several minutes, her dusky blue eyes staring straight into mine. Her nose and mouth are all Sarah's, but I've seen a hint of my smile when the corners of her mouth have turned up as she sleeps. Her eyes, though blue now, are dark and hazy and I suspect they will soon mirror Sarah's. That's fine with me; I love Sarah's eyes.

I look up at my wife and smile. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?" I ask softly.

"No…but could you bring our daughter over here and sing that song again?"

I'm happy to indulge her, willing to do anything for her after the miracle she's given me. I hand over Lydia and scoot into the bed beside them. Pulling them into my arms, I start to sing.

" _Here comes the sun…"_

* * *

 _1533 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

Sarah and I say goodbye to AJ and Maria after a nice long visit. AJ can't seem to get enough of Lydia. He's held her most of the hour and a half they've been here, and the way Maria was looking at the two of them, I wonder if they may have one of their own one day. It's odd to imagine AJ being a brand-new father at his age, but Maria is only a couple of years older than Sarah. It wouldn't be outside the realm of reason for her to have a baby. I guess we will see…

Since his retirement, AJ has been splitting his time between here and San Diego. I wonder how long that will last; he and Maria are clearly in love and when he's without her, he's rather surly. I'm glad for his sake that she's going to be here for the next month; Sarah and I think he's going to propose while she's here and we have no doubt she'll accept. We assume that AJ will then be in San Diego permanently.

Sarah and I owe a lot to Maria. She helped Mac through her PTSD regarding Paraguay, and she steered me in the right direction when my time with the CIA caught up with me. She recommended one of her colleagues to Sarah when Sarah started counseling here, and she was instrumental in getting us into couples counseling after my implosion.

Sarah did have the option of counseling with Maria over the phone, but with Maria's connection to AJ, Sarah opted to let the relationship become more personal rather than maintaining the professional distance appropriate for a patient/therapist relationship. The therapist Maria recommended was a great fit for Sarah, so that all worked out wonderfully.

A sweet little wail from my daughter rouses me from my thoughts. She's impatient to eat and Sarah deftly brings our baby to her breast. I am quickly finding that the sight of Sarah nursing our daughter is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Sarah looks so at peace right now, so beautiful, and I can't resist leaning over and kissing her cheek. Before I can lean back again, she turns her face toward me and moves to capture my lips with her own.

Kissing Sarah has always been like coming home. I knew this even when we kissed on the docks after I went after Diane's killer. Sarah thought I was kissing my old flame, and maybe I was kissing her goodbye. However, a second after our lips touched, I knew I was kissing Sarah. Kissing Diane had never felt like _that._ I was a bit overwhelmed with all the emotions swirling within me and I couldn't let my mind linger on what it meant to kiss Sarah MacKenzie, so I didn't correct her when she told me she knew I was 'her.'

The night of her engagement party to Mic, I knew kissing Sarah was wrong, but I couldn't stop following her lips after she tried to kiss me goodbye. I pulled her to me and we shared the most passionate kiss I'd ever had up until that point. She told me much later that she would have gone with me that night if I'd just said the word…why I didn't, I'll never know.

Sarah's mouth opens now to allow my tongue to slip in to duel with hers. But we know where we are, and obviously, we are not going to let this go any further. We break apart with a sigh, but just being here with her, holding her, holding our baby is more than enough for now. Inevitably my mind goes to yesterday morning, before Sarah went into labor. Our lovemaking then was passionate, aggressive, and apparently enough to get things started. Okay, the doctors assured us that if she hadn't gone into labor that afternoon, she likely would have gone into it shortly thereafter. Of course I was mortified that my actions may have caused our baby to be born technically premature, and of course it didn't matter to me that Sarah was a willing participant. I should have kept better control of myself and all that…Sarah knew what I was thinking and given that she was in the throes of childbirth, she was not delicate when she told me to, uh, _stop_ it.

"You're thinking about yesterday morning, aren't you." Sarah smiles at me knowingly. I blush more, but I'm not really embarrassed—well, not much anyway.

I kiss her lips again. "You know me so well, my love."

"It was pretty epic, sailor." She's grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Yes, it was, sweetie."

She giggles, causing Lydia to unlatch from her nipple. The baby protests, but Sarah quickly gets her latched again. "'Sweet' isn't exactly how I'd term it." She smirks at me, while I try to look dignified and stern.

"We shouldn't be talking about this in front of the baby." I try to look more severe, which only makes Sarah giggle harder. This time, though, she manages to keep Lydia where she belongs.

"You know, Flyboy, I kinda like it like that," she says once she calms down.

"Like what?"

"A little dirty."

" _Sarah!"_ I know I'm blushing again; I can feel the heat to the tips of my ears. "We shouldn't be discussing this here! And before you can say it, I am _not_ a prude!" _A prude wouldn't make you scream like that,_ I congratulate myself.

"Okay, okay, Harm. We'll save it for the bedroom. But not for at least six weeks…that's how long we'll have to wait." She looks a little disappointed, so I attempt to cheer her up.

"Well, it's not eternity, so we'll be okay." Her expression sobers and for a minute I worry that I upset her with the reminder of our ill-fated ferry ride in Sydney, but she leans over and kisses me again.

"No, not an eternity. I love you, Harm."

"I love you too, Sarah. Thank you for giving me our daughter." She tears up a bit; I know her hormones are wreaking havoc on her emotions.

"You're so welcome, Harm. Thank _you_ for giving her to me." A tear escapes down her cheek and I reach over to brush it away with my thumb. She leans into my palm. "And thank you for yesterday morning."

"You are most _definitely_ welcome, sweetheart."

Despite the swirl of hormones going through her body, I'm still a little surprised when more of her tears fall. "What's wrong, honey?" I ask, concerned.

"We almost lost that."

I know what she's talking about, and it still hurts to think about it. "I know, baby, but we made it through that too." And we did, but it's true that the thought of it still makes me vacillate between tears and rage and I _still_ want to resurrect Sadik Fahd just so I can kill him. Slowly. Painfully. I have to take a deep breath to rein my thoughts in and not for the first time I think Sarah has actually recovered better from it all than I have. I don't know if that is surprising or not; she was the real victim, but the thought of anyone or anything hurting her…and, oh god, what that bastard did to her…

* * *

 _May 4th_ _, 2004_

 _0932 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"Sir? Commander Rabb?"

My ears recognize that someone is calling for me, but my mind doesn't send out the signal to acknowledge it. It's been a rough morning, and it's all I can do to remember the route back to my office. We just finished up with the morning staff meeting, and I just want to make it back to my office so I can drop the façade that everything is okay.

"Commander Rabb?" The voice is more insistent, and it annoys me.

" _What?!"_ I whip around toward the offending individual, but it's a different voice that answers.

"My office. _Now_ , Commander." The admiral stares me down while Coates is sending me a look of sympathy, despite my behavior toward her just now.

"Yes, sir," I say, shoulders slumping a bit until the clearing of the admiral's throat indicates that I need to do better. I turn in the direction of the Admiral Chegwidden's office, but look back when I realize he's not following me.

"Go, Commander. I will be there momentarily." The admiral's attention goes back to his yeoman, and I cross the bullpen again, glancing at Sarah's office as I pass by it. It's dark, and the reason it's dark today sends a new stab of pain through my chest. I hurry on by and find myself in the anteroom of the admiral's office without really remembering the walk there.

A few minutes later, Admiral Chegwidden is beside me and ushers me through the heavy doors guarding his inner sanctum. "Have a seat, Commander," he orders as he walks behind his desk to sit down himself. Once we are both settled, he just gives me his patented stare while I try not to squirm. Finally, he speaks.

"You were distracted at staff call today."

 _No shit, AJ_ , I think mutinously, but all I say is, "Yes, sir."

"I assume it has something to do with the colonel's absence this morning?" _Ah, so he's plying me for information. Well, he won't get it._

"She'll be in around noon, sir."

"I am aware of the plan, but I want to know if she _should_ be in at noon."

"Sir?"

"Is she really ready to be back here? Is she still getting sick? Is that what happened today?"

I want to snap at him to mind his own business but the concern in his tone registers in my befuddled brain, so I hold my tongue. I don't have any other answer for him anyway.

"Commander?" His tone still holds concern, but there is steel behind it too and I need to say something.

"Um…yeah, she was a little sick today. _But not for the reason you're thinking._

"Damn. Is it ever going to get better?"

 _I don't know._ "Uh, yes sir. It, ah, usually is…better, that is."

I can feel the admiral staring at me even though I keep my gaze just off of him.

"Are _you_ okay, son?"

"Uh, no, sir." _Oh god, what did I just say? I didn't mean to say that._

"Did you two have a fight? Is it the baby? Is the baby okay? And what did you do to your hand?"

I have to admit it's exceedingly weird, maybe even inappropriate, to have the admiral delving into my personal life, especially after so many years of being relatively 'hands-off.' Well, maybe that isn't really accurate, either. He's made us all into a family of sorts; until the Singer and Paraguay situations I never doubted that underneath his gruff exterior, he truly cared about us. Sure, Sarah always was his favorite, but I knew he liked me too. Until recently…but maybe he's trying to make that up to me as well.

"No, sir. No fight. Really. Just a difficult morning. The baby's fine. I'm fine. I'll be fine…I just cut myself on some glass." I feel a twinge in my foot too; I didn't bother to bandage that one and it's probably bleeding all over my sock. But I don't give a fuck. _Dammit, I'm getting mad again. Get it together, Rabb._ "I'm okay, sir." I don't sound terribly convincing, but the admiral lets it slide.

"Son…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Nothing…you're dismissed. Just…call Colonel MacKenzie and make sure she's truly up to coming back full time. We can do half days like we did yesterday."

Sarah started back to work yesterday and to ease her into it a bit, she was only in for the morning. Today she was supposed to be back full time…and she would have been if not for what happened this morning.

I stand. "Aye, sir. I plan to call her when I get back to my office."

The admiral just nods, and I turn toward the door.

"Harm?"

I turn back but don't say anything. I can see in his eyes that he knows that whatever happened, it wasn't as simple as morning sickness or a lovers' spat.

"If you two need anything…"

"Yes, sir." I need to get out of here before my control crumbles. An openly compassionate AJ Chegwidden is not something I'd ever expected to see, especially after the last couple of years, but Sarah and I could definitely use some compassion right now. I can't really tell him what's going on, but I appreciate this new AJ. I just don't want to cry in front of him.

"Do you need to go home, son?"

 _Yes._ "No, sir. I'll, that is, we'll be fine. Thank you." I nearly run out the door then and he doesn't stop me.

Finally alone in my office, I close and lock the door before flipping the blinds shut. I sink down into my office chair, feeling the sting of tears first. Then the blinding rage takes over and it's all I can do not to sweep everything off my desk, computer and all, letting it all smash and shatter on the floor...just like in my kitchen. I pinch the bridge of my nose, but I can't stop the single tear that falls down my cheek. I cover my face with my hands, and, though desperately wanting to forget, all I can do is replay the events of early this morning in my mind…

* * *

 _0458 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

 _I wake to the feeling of lips on my chest. A tongue swirls around my nipple, and I can feel that familiar tightening in my groin and lower belly. Her hand drifts downward, sliding under the waistband of my boxers. As her fingers graze along my shaft, my penis twitches and grows. God, I've missed this. I've missed_ her _._

 _I pull her over to lie flush on top of me and my hands slide under her nightgown to cup her bare six. They work the firm muscles of her backside, stroking and squeezing, and finally I reach one hand in between us. I find her clitoris and give it a few light strokes and am rewarded with her low moan of pleasure. I then move my hand lower, plunging fingers deep into her wetness. Her walls contract around them as I pulse them in and out of her. Her mouth crashes down on mine and we let our tongues taste and tease._

 _There are other places I want to, no,_ need to _taste and kiss so I take my fingers from her warm center, smiling at her whimper of disappointment. I sit up and she adjusts herself to straddle me. My hands grasp the hem of her nightgown and she raises her arms so I can pull it over her head, and then before me are her magnificent breasts. My mouth immediately closes around one turgid nipple and I swirl my tongue around it as she shudders at my touch. The areolae around her nipples have darkened and grown with her pregnancy and it's incredibly arousing to see the changes I've caused in her body. I won't deny it; I'm bursting with manly pride that I've gotten her pregnant._

 _Sarah's hands haven't been idle. They've caressed and stroked and teased, and I gasp as one of them wraps around my manhood. My lips capture hers and suddenly I have to be inside her. I roll us over and hover above her, sliding my cock through her slick folds a few times before I finally enter her. I have to tell her this probably won't last too long; it's been months since we've been together and my control is at a low. I move in and out of her and I can't help myself. I begin to speak._

 _I've never been one for so-called dirty talk during sex, but Sarah awakens something in me and I can't keep my thoughts inside._

" _Oh god, Sarah. You're so wet, so tight. I love being inside you." With a grunt I plunge even deeper into her. "Oh, baby…can you feel me inside you? You were made for me. I want you to come hard around me. So hard. Oh my GOD, Sarah! Oh—"_

 _Suddenly I feel something is wrong. Sarah has stilled beneath me and in my sex-addled mind I hear her voice in the distance. "Harm, stop." I feel her hands come up and push at my chest. "Harm, please. Please stop." I do stop my frantic movements, but I'm still inside her. I pull out when I look down at her and see the tears running from her eyes toward her ears._

" _Sarah, baby, did I hurt you?" I'd rather cut off my penis than cause her pain._

 _She shakes her head._

" _Then what is it?" I start to caress her cheek with the back of my hand, but she flinches away from it. She scoots up a bit and covers herself with the sheet, almost as if she's ashamed at her nakedness._ What is going on with her? _I'm confused, sort of scared, and I sit up beside her. Sarah's looking away from me and I want to turn her face back, but she seems to be reluctant for me to touch her. That thought breaks my heart. "Sarah?" I hear the tremor in my voice and realize I'm near tears as well. Her voice is so small when she finally answers that I have to strain to hear her. I also see that her eyes have a glazed look, like she's not really here, or she's seeing something entirely different than the bedroom around us._

" _He can hear us." She's visibly trembling._

" _Who, honey? Who can hear us?"_

" _Him. Sadik."_

" _No, baby. Sadik is dead. He can't hear us."_

 _She's still not focused on me or anything actually here with us. I don't know what to do. I want to hold her but I'm afraid she'll react badly. "Sarah…" I risk a light touch on her arm. She gasps and jumps, obviously startled._

" _He heard everything. He heard you and me…making love. He heard…when I was with Clay…he heard you when you said…when you said those things after…he made me listen to it. Our first time together..."_

" _But he's not here now, sweetheart. He's dead. No one is listening to us. Webb had this place checked out. It's safe here." My heart is pounding fast and hard and it almost hurts. But it will never hurt as much as it does watching her shake and tremble beside me. I'd known about Sadik bugging her apartment and how he made her listen to the 'high' points, but after that night she didn't mention it. It's probably been working on her for weeks now, but she didn't tell me. Why didn't she tell me? Did she at least talk about it with Maria? Somehow, I don't think so. She probably didn't think she'd react this way. I am utterly devastated and shamed when I think how well it was going until I decided to open my mouth._

" _They found where Sadik had set up his base…they have everything now." By 'they' she means the CIA. Kershaw had taken the disc from Sarah's apartment which was bad enough…but from what she's told me since we've been together, there was plenty more to be heard._

 _Sadik had been listening in on her life starting nearly the moment we returned from Paraguay. The time after the admiral refused to take me back and I joined the CIA was not a good one. I was angry, hurt, embittered, and Sarah was shunned by our friends as she tried to rejoin her life after a horribly traumatic event. Neither the CIA nor the Navy felt it was their responsibility to make sure she was doing okay, and I will feel the guilt till my dying day that I didn't answer her calls or see her. If I had swallowed my wounded pride and answered her, maybe she would have gotten help sooner. Maybe she wouldn't have had to hear herself sobbing and grieving over what she had lost. It was painful enough for her the first time, and it was_ private. _And then Webb, Kershaw, and god knows how many CIA personnel heard it too._

 _They also heard all the horrible things I said to her after I was fired from the CIA. I threw Webb in her face, what we were doing in her face…I made her feel cheap and dirty and I can never make that up to her. I can't erase the humiliation she felt and to have others, strangers, know of that night too…oh god, I think I'm going to be sick._

" _I think I'm going to be sick." Sarah's strangled words rouse me from my thoughts and I watch as she struggles to get out of the bed. She stumbles into the bathroom and the door is barely shut before I hear her retching into the toilet. I get up as well and wait by the bathroom door until all is quiet. I give her a minute before I knock._

" _Sarah, honey? Can I come in?" I know and didn't lock the door, but I don't want to just barge in when she's in this state. She doesn't answer right away and I'm so afraid for her. "Sarah?"_ Shit _. Tears have formed in my eyes and I can feel them slipping down my cheeks. I'm not so macho that I can't accept a man crying, but I want to be strong for her and frankly I feel like I've used up my allowance of tears for the year._

 _Her voice is ragged as she answers me. "I'll be out in a minute. Can you get me…can you make…"_

 _I think she's just trying to give me something to do so I won't hover out here, but I go along with it. "You want me to make you some tea?"_

" _Yeah…that would be…yeah. Thanks."_

 _I don't want to leave her alone in there, but I do as she 'asked.' Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm standing in my kitchen filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove. I reach into a cupboard and pull out the tea and a couple of mugs, noting the design on one of them. It's a completely innocuous design, just an outline of a WWII fighter plane, but for some reason it enrages me. White hot fury floods through me. I don't understand it for a moment, but then I remember. It was a gift from Beth O'Neill, my frequent co-pilot during my early days with the CIA. Before they decided I had other talents…_

 _It's not really the mug that has me so livid. It's what it represents—a time when my life was in shambles. A time when I was adrift, separated from everyone I loved. Separated from my best friend, from Sarah. Grieving that loss as much as she did. I could have stopped that. I could have ended both our pain, but no. I had to be stubborn and cold and because of that we're here now._

 _But why are we really here? Because of one mother-fucking terrorist. Sadik. Sadik Fahd. My fists clench and I imagine them around his scrawny neck. I know what it's like to feel someone's neck snap under my hands and I wish he were here now so I could snap his. But that would be too easy. He should suffer. He should have his heart torn out while he watches. He should have his pecker cut off and fed to him. He should know what it's like to have each limb torn from its socket. He should know the horror of having his balls cut off with a hacksaw. Slowly. He should scream. He should be humiliated as he soils himself. His death was too easy. Sarah was far too merciful. And she feels guilty about that…not about being merciful, but because she killed him when he was likely unable to defend himself. She killed him before anyone could get intel from him. She worries she murdered him. Oh, Sarah…he would have killed you and our baby without any hesitation. You did what you had to do. But it was too quick. Way too quick…_

 _I don't know what to do with this rage. I've been angry before. I've been livid. I've been incensed. I don't have a word for what I feel now. It_ is _rage, but it's so much more. The way my heart is pounding I think I may be having a heart attack. I need to get this out of me before Sarah comes out. I need to release this somehow…_

 _I don't even know what I'm about to do before I do it. My arm winds back and I throw the mug as hard as I can against the opposite wall. It shatters into hundreds of tiny shards of ceramic. That's not enough, though. My arm lashes out again and suddenly I'm sweeping everything off the counter before me onto the floor. Much of it is breakable and I'm rewarded with the sound of shattering glass._ "GODDAMMIT!" _I shout, chest and shoulders heaving with fury. But then I hear her behind me._

" _H-Harm?"_

 _I don't turn around right away because I want to get back some control before I face her._

" _You're angry."_ If that wasn't the understatement of the century. _I whip around and before I can stop myself, I'm yelling again. "Hell yes, I'm angry! I'm furious!" I fling my arms wide, and even though she is nowhere near me, she flinches and puts her hands in front of her face like I'm about to hit her. Which I would never, ever do. "Sarah—"_

 _Her hands come down and the look on her face is one I'll never get out of my mind. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry—" She turns and runs back toward the bedroom, stumbling on one of the stairs. She catches herself on her hands and doesn't completely fall, thank god. The tea kettle starts to whistle then, and I have to turn off the burner before I can go after her. I step on an errant shard of glass with a bare foot and I feel the sting of it, but I ignore it as I sprint to the bedroom after Sarah._

 _She's fallen in a heap by the bed, and I lower myself down next to her. She's sobbing and keeps repeating she's sorry and my tears flow freely again. I gather her in my arms, relieved when she lets me. I move her to my lap and rock her. "No, Sarah, I'm not mad at you. Never you. I'm mad at Sadik for doing this to you. I'm mad at myself for not being there for you…maybe we'd have found out sooner what he was doing. I'm sorry, sweetheart…so, so sorry. Please…please believe me that I'm not mad at you. I love you."_

" _B-But it's my fault!" She burrows into me a little more, sobbing out her broken heart. I feel her tears on my neck and my heart breaks again too. How many times can two hearts be shattered like this?_

" _Oh, Sarah, honey. No. It's not your fault. You didn't do this. That sick son of a bitch Sadik did this. Not you._ NOT _you!"_

 _She continues to cry for several more minutes and all I can do is hold her. I finally feel her relax into me and I sit as still as I can so she won't feel like she has to move away from me. My brain is a bit scrambled so rather than sing anything to her as I have before I can only hum idly._

 _Her breath still comes out in little shudders and I wonder to myself when we'll catch a break. Maybe she just needed to get this out and we'll be fine and we'll be able to make love to each other again. But I don't think so…I think this goes deeper. She feels violated and will likely continue to feel violated knowing the CIA has access to her most private moments. She's a private person, doesn't open herself up to many, and now this…_

" _I feel dirty."_

 _Her softly-spoken words are a stab to my heart. Her teen years consisted of her father calling her at best a slut, though she was anything but. Her future husband assumed she was 'experienced' before she gave him her virginity, and then a friend of his raped her the next week. She's had more than enough people in her past telling her she's nothing, that she's cheap. Why does she have to feel that way now?_

" _Oh, sweetheart…I wish I could do or say something to make you not feel that way. You aren't dirty, honey. You aren't." I stroke her hair and would be content to just hold her but the way my back and knees feel right now, I know I need to get off the floor before I'm stuck here permanently. "Baby? Let's get you back in bed."_

 _She shakes her head. "No…I might as well get up and shower. It's almost time to get up for work anyway._

" _Sarah, dear…I think you should stay home today."_

 _She leans back and I see the stubborn set of her features. "No…I've been gone for too long. I can do my job, Harm." She scrambles off my lap and stands. I stand with her, but the second she's fully upright, she sways on her feet. I quickly wrap an arm around her waist and help her sit down on the bed._

" _Sarah…"_

 _She closes her eyes and puts a hand to her forehead. "I know, Harm." I help her swing her legs up onto the bed and lay her back. Despite wearing my bathrobe, she's shivering, so I draw the covers over her. I sit next to her and brush her hair off her forehead._

" _Sweetheart, go back to sleep for a while. If you feel up to it, you can go in at noon. The admiral won't mind." Sarah nods and pulls a hand from under the blankets. She grabs one of mine and presses it to her cheek._

" _Stay with me until I fall asleep? And set the alarm for 1030; I don't know that I'll wake myself up."_

" _Of course, honey." I'm relieved she's listening to me, but then again, I'm worried that she agreed so quickly. A pregnant marine is all new territory for both of us, though, so I tell myself to calm down. Once I know she's sleeping again, I stand and lean over to kiss her forehead. I rise and my hand goes to the softly rounded mound of her belly that I can feel but can't really see under the blankets. I press into it a bit, sending comforting thoughts to mother and child before I leave them to shower._

 _Once I have the shower on full blast, I let myself go. I rest my forehead on the cool tiles of the shower stall and let myself cry in way I wouldn't let Sarah see. My shoulders shake and before long I can't even stand upright. I turn and slide down to the floor, back against the wall._

 _I bury my face in my hands and sob._

* * *

 _1140 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

I checked my foot after I made it back to my office. It was bleeding a bit but a Band-Aid found in my desk fixed that. My hand isn't really too bad, the cut I sustained while picking up my mess is just in an awkward spot so the dressing on it is more involved.

Since I've been in here, I've been doing paperwork. Mind-numbing, boring paperwork, but I'm grateful for it. It's all I really need to do today, and I hope I can convince Sarah to secure early. I check my watch; it's 1140. Sarah will be here soon. I had called her around 1045. She had indeed needed the alarm to wake her and she still sounded tired, but she told me in no uncertain terms that she would be in _by noon._

I lean back in my chair and raise my arms over my head to stretch before standing up and unlocking my door. I open it a crack but leave the blinds down. I'm just about to sit back down when I hear one of the staff greet Sarah. I give her a little time to get into her office before I head there myself.

I rap on the doorframe. "Can I come in?"

She gives me a tired smile. "Of course."

I step in fully and shut the door behind me. I probably shouldn't…we don't want to look like we are engaging in inappropriate behavior at work, but I decide to take the risk. Besides, I really do need to engage in a little inappropriate behavior now. I step close to her and wrap my arms around her. "How are you, Sarah?"

"I'm still tired, but I'm okay," she says as she returns my embrace.

"Can you secure early today?" I ask her, knowing she'll probably protest. I'm surprised, delighted, and worried when she says yes. I try to cover it by hugging her more tightly, resting my chin on the top of her head.

"I called Maria. She's going to call me back later today." Sarah has not yet established with her new therapist, so I am glad she called her previous one. If anyone can help, Maria can.

"That's good, Sarah." We step apart when there's a knock on the door.

I pull it open and standing there is Admiral Chegwidden. Actually…I think this is more 'Papa AJ' than mere CO. "Colonel MacKenzie, as you were…I just wanted to check and make sure you are fit for duty."

Mac was standing properly at attention and I watch as she relaxes her stance. Remembering that I'm supposed to be doing the same thing, I turn my eyes back to the admiral. Thankfully he doesn't seem to be paying any attention to me.

"Mac…let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

I see moisture forming in Sarah's eyes and will the admiral to leave before she starts crying. She blinks a few times but then I see the tough marine façade fall into place. "Aye, sir."

"Well, I'll leave you to it, people. I'd like to see both of you in my office tomorrow afternoon. I've been working on ways to keep you two around here now that your relationship status has changed, and I have a few options."

Now that does make me happy. I was worried what would happen as we can't marry and still be under the same chain of command. "Thank you, sir." I look over at Sarah and she looks pleased even if her smile isn't at its normal wattage. The admiral nods, stepping out of Sarah's office and closing the door behind him.

I wrap an arm around Sarah's shoulders and kiss her temple. "I'd better get back to my paperwork so we can get out of here at a decent time." I look over at the piles of papers on her desk. "Looks like you better get started too, jarhead." I smirk at her and she rewards me with a swat on the arm. At least that's more her normal behavior.

"Yes, get out of here so I can get to work, sailor. I bet I still beat you, though."

I raise my eyebrow at her. "Oh, a challenge…well, I accept." I shake her hand and take my leave.

We're both ready to secure at 1600.

Well, Sarah was ready to secure at 1538…

* * *

 _May 5th, 2004_

 _1424 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

The admiral has surprised us. Sarah will be moving to the judiciary and I will remain here. I was worried that she would be upset about that, but it turns out that, despite my behavior during that time, she really enjoyed being a judge and had been wondering if that's where her career should go next. Honestly, I made a terrible judge…way too emotional. The admiral had a few other ideas, but we both jumped at this one.

I guess that really wasn't so surprising…Mac as a judge, me the same lawyer-pilot I've been for the last nine years. What was surprising is that the admiral plans to retire. Soon. He will be stepping down at the end of next month. I never thought I'd see this day, but as he tells it, he's been thinking about it for a long time. He tells us it's time for new priorities, and by that I think he means one Maria Carmen. He also tells us that he feels he no longer has the need nor desire to be a CO anymore and he wants to leave this behind before he has more regrets than successes. He looks meaningfully at us as he says this, and I know he is at least in part referring to Paraguay. We give him our support and he lets us go with a smile we've rarely seen. He seems very content with his decision and we're both happy for him.

As for Sarah and me, we are muddling through…last night was tough. Sarah was hesitant to lie in my arms and it took several soothing words and reassurances and even a song to get her to relax. She sees her new therapist tomorrow and we both pray it will help.

* * *

 _May 17_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1102 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

I pace around the admiral's anteroom, waiting for him to tell Coates I can go in. I'm glad Mac is doing an interview at Bethesda. I'll be joining her later this afternoon for another doctor's appointment. They want to make sure Sarah is still gaining weight. I'm afraid they'll be disappointed. The recent stress regarding our issues in the bedroom has gotten to her and I've had to force her to eat at times. I try to keep reassuring her that I love her and that we'll be okay again, but she is still unsure and tentative. Her therapist is wonderful by all accounts, and Sarah at least accepts affection and doesn't wince when I tell her she's beautiful or that I want to kiss her. I've kept most of the kisses chaste, but she is gradually starting to respond again. I won't say that I entirely understand her behavior, but I roll with it. I also keep my temper in check and choose to release my anger in the gym. They'll probably need to buy a new punching bag before too long.

She reassures me often that she loves me as well, though I didn't don't actually doubt it. She is frustrated too; we have tried to make love again, but though I stay quiet, choosing to express myself with my hands and lips, she freezes before we can actually join ourselves together. She tells me she still feels like someone is listening in, even that she's being watched. She knows that isn't the case, she knows it's irrational (and she beats herself up over that), but she is having difficulty letting it go. It doesn't help her that she knows the CIA holds all the recordings. That's why I'm here waiting to talk to the admiral. I don't know how Sarah will feel about me going to him…okay, I do know. She's going to be furious, but right now I think he may be the only person who can help.

I've tried to call Webb about getting the tapes destroyed. He's been out of the country, though, and while he has expressed the willingness to help, he can't really do anything about it now. I was pissed, but I did understand…and my ill-will toward him has abated for the most part. He did help Sarah, even though he got her into that mess in the first place. I've talked to Kershaw…one can guess how that worked out. I think Sarah can rest easier and heal faster if no one will ever be able to hear them again.

Finally, Coates tells me I can go in. I enter through the heavy doors and let them shut behind me before I step up to the admiral's desk. I'm barely at attention before he tells me to sit.

"Mac all settled in?"

I nod. "For the most part." The admiral helped Sturgis and I pack up Sarah's apartment this past weekend. The packing part was easy; holding Sarah while she cried afterwards was hard.

"What can I do for you, Commander…Harm?" He must sense this is a little more on the personal side. Since his announcement that he's going to retire, he's been more relaxed. Some of the younger members of JAG HQ aren't sure how to take this new Admiral, but the more seasoned of us are enjoying it.

I decide just to dive right in. "It involves what happened with Sadik, sir." The admiral nods and I continue.

"When Sarah, that is, Colonel MacKenzie, was confronting Sadik, she discovered that he had been bugging her apartment for months. He heard things…uh, many personal things…"

"Oh _shit,"_ the admiral interjects. I think he must understand what I mean by 'personal,' at least in part. Good.

"The CIA took the recording Sadik had brought with him to Colonel MacKenzie's apartment and when they found Sadik's lair, they confiscated the remainder of the recordings. There are, of course, many more personal interactions on those tapes…and…and…" I find I'm having trouble going on. The admiral waits patiently while I struggle.

"It's okay, son. Go on when you're ready."

I get myself together finally and start speaking again. "The CIA refuses to destroy the tapes or give them to us to destroy. Sir…they don't need anything on those recordings. It's _all_ personal. Sarah…well, she had a hard time after Paraguay and those tapes demonstrate that. We were not in a good place when we, ah, reunited…and there are things that I said to her that are on there…and they—they could hear us…" I obviously can't verbalize that, but the admiral understands. His jaw has tightened, and he looks ready to kill someone. I know the feeling well.

"Sir, Sarah isn't…isn't handling this well. I think having the tapes, _seeing_ the tapes destroyed will help us, uh, her…sir, she was—was…" I choke up at that. I am mortified, even more so when the admiral comes around his desk and sits down in the chair beside me. He places a fatherly hand on my shoulder.

"You want me to see if I can get the tapes back, son?"

I can only nod.

"Consider it done. Does Mac know you were planning to ask me to help?"

"Uh, no, sir. She's probably going to be rather angry about it."

"Maybe, but if I can help…" His face takes on an even more concerned expression. "Are you two going to be okay?"

"I think so, sir. It's just been really…h-hard." _Ah, shit_. Emotional Rabb is once again front and center.

The admiral squeezes my shoulder again. "Well, Commander, I find I have some business to attend to, if you will excuse me." I start to stand to be dismissed, but he presses me down into the seat again. "Take as long as you need, Harm." I nod, grateful for his care.

* * *

Within two days, we have the tapes. I don't know what he did or who he talked to, or more likely threatened, and Sarah was a bit upset initially that I involved the admiral, but the tapes are ours.

Sarah met with the admiral in his office after we looked through the box of recordings. Not many would have noticed, but when she came out, I knew she'd been crying. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" I asked. She nodded and gave me a smile, one that had been missing for a while.

"Yeah…I just wanted to thank him. Now, let's take these out somewhere and get rid of them once and for all."

We did do just that…it was healing for us, although it still took until July before we could make love again. It was far from our previous wild couplings; there were no screams or cries of pleasure. It was gentle, loving, still beautiful, and as we lay there spent, the sweat evaporating off our bodies, we both cried. She for regaining what we had lost, and I because Sarah had finally come home.

 _End Chapter 3_


	4. Flying

_A/N: Here's Chapter 4! I apologize if you are reading shortly after posting—I know there's still edits to be done but I want to get this up so I feel like I accomplished something this weekend! The nursery I describe in this chapter is basically the one I had for my first daughter. I don't live in that house anymore, but I really did love that room._

 _A/N 2: Editing completed. It's probably still not perfect but it should be better._

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 4: Flying**

 _September 21st, 2004_

 _1745 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

I turn down the hall toward Sarah's room only to be barreled into by a five-year-old battering ram. Thankfully, he's too short to do any damage to the family jewels so to speak, otherwise Lydia could be an only child. I chuckle inwardly. Lydia's barely twenty-four hours old and I'm already thinking about having another.

Little AJ Roberts wraps his arms around my legs and stares up at me. "Scuse me, Uncle Harm."

I bend to swing him up in my arms. "You're excused, little man. How's my favorite godson?" I tickle his belly and he squirms as he giggles.

"I'm good, Uncle Harm! You know what?" he says the latter in a hushed tone, stretching up to whisper in my ear like he's telling me a secret.

"What?" I speak in the same conspiratorial tone.

"Auntie Mac has a baby." He seems quite proud to be the bearer of such news.

"She does?" I say with feigned surprise. "What do you think of her?"

I've resumed my walk to Sarah's room, and I see Bud peek his head out, presumably looking for AJ. I wave Bud back and continue my conversation with AJ.

"She's cute. I love her."

Such a sweet sentiment from a sweet little boy. "You know what, little man? I love her too! And guess what?" He looks up at me expectantly. "Auntie Mac's baby is my baby too!"

He laughs heartily at that. "I know, Uncle Harm! Cuz you're married!"

"That's right, AJ." By this time, we've reached Bud who's stepped out into the hall.

"I'm sorry, sir. He broke away when Mac said you were coming down the hall. Huh, how did she know that, sir? You didn't call…"

I hand AJ over to Bud and the little boy starts chattering at him about 'Uncle Harm's baby,' and 'Auntie Mac's baby' so I don't have to answer. The truth is we just know when we're near each other…and even when we're not so near. Bud with his love of all things sci-fi and supernatural would find this fascinating, but I really don't want to spend hours fielding questions about something I don't understand myself.

Harriet is sitting in the easy chair holding Lydia, Jimmy tucked in beside her. She's pregnant again, with twins this time, and I have to wonder if she and Bud ever sleep. I lean down and kiss Harriet on the cheek before sitting down on the bed next to Sarah, wrapping my arm around her and kissing her as well.

"Sir, she's beautiful. So perfect!" she gushes. I have to agree with her, but I suppose I'm biased.

"Thank you, Harriet. And it's Harm! You guys are family!" Harriet smiles warmly at that, but I know the chances of her actually calling me by name are pretty slim.

"How're the girls?" Sarah asks as she settles into my embrace.

"They're fine. They miss you."

Mac snorts. "You mean Maggie misses me."

By girls, Sarah is referring to our pets, Maggie the dog and Nimitz the cat. We hadn't planned on having pets, at least not right away, but they kind of came with our house.

Maggie, named after the first female general in the marines, Brigadier General Margaret Brewer, showed up on our doorstep the week after we moved in. She scratched on the front door, and when Sarah opened the door to see what was making the noise, Maggie slipped in. She trotted to the glass doors out to the deck like she owned the place and waited to be let out. The little mutt looked around the backyard for a bit before she was back at the door. Sarah told me the dog looked rather dejected when she was let back in, no longer so jaunty as she went back to the front door. Sarah let her out again, wondering what had just happened.

This happened two more times after that, and the third time, not finding what she was looking for, the dog dropped down on the back lawn, eyes sad, looking deflated. Sarah went out to check on her and she could have sworn the dog was crying. We asked around, but it appeared that no one was missing what was probably a beagle mix of some sort. Finally, we found out from our next-door neighbor that the dog who was to become Maggie was a stray that came over to play with the Lab who used to live here. She must have thought that since there were people in here again, her friend had come back.

Sarah brought Maggie in and fell in love with her. We cleaned her up, had her cleared by the vet, and were happy that she'd already been spayed. She'd actually been microchipped, but the person that it was registered to turned out to be an elderly lady now in a nursing home. We contacted the family, and while they were glad 'Sparkles' had been found, they had no desire to claim her.

Sarah renamed her, thinking 'Maggie' was more dignified, and we had our first pet together.

Enter Nimitz. Nimitz is a black cat that wandered into my shop one day shortly after Maggie was officially ours. She hopped up on the workbench next to me and just stared at me. And kept staring at me. She followed me everywhere. Even into the house. When Maggie came over to sniff the cat and greet me, the cat just batted her away. Sarah tried to pet her, but the feline turned away, rather disrespectfully. She started winding herself around my legs and purring and kept herself between me and the team of Maggie and Sarah.

Since the cat wouldn't leave and no one else around there knew her, we were back in the vet office and then to the pet shop for more supplies. I named her after the famous admiral and we have been inseparable…because she won't leave me alone! She is _not_ allowed in Sarah's and my bedroom, though. We don't need an audience when we, ah, have relations.

The cat and dog eventually reached a truce. Sarah and the cat…well, that's a different story. She would step in between us when we kissed. She would muscle in to sit between us on the couch. Sarah asked me if Nimitz was a former girlfriend because she 'sure seemed jealous.' I finally had to sit Nimitz down and explain to her that Sarah was my (almost) wife and that Nimitz would need to respect that and her. I felt absolutely ridiculous after I finished that 'conversation,' but Nimitz seemed to get it. She was far better behaved, though she still pointedly ignored Sarah whenever I was around, at least until Sarah became more obviously pregnant.

It was rather funny that as Sarah's belly expanded, the cat seemed more interested in her, or at least the baby bump. She would hop on Sarah's lap, lean against her rounded abdomen, and purr. I hope that means she'll love the baby, but obviously we will be careful with Lydia around the animals.

"Can I come over and play with Maggie tomorrow?" I look down at Little AJ who's suddenly at my elbow.

"Well, maybe not tomorrow, buddy, but we'll have you by soon, okay?" I muss up his hair, which I know irritates his mother, but I can't help myself. I love the Roberts children almost as if they were my own, though I'm only Little AJ's godfather. Jimmy is just as sweet as his older brother, but definitely quieter. I was not around much when he was born, which is probably why I'm not his godfather as well. That honor belongs to Mikey, Bud's younger brother. Sarah isn't his godmother either; her relationship with the Roberts was also not in a good place. Jennifer Coates is his godmother and given the way she handled things when Bud lost his leg, I can't think of anyone better with the exception of Sarah. Once again, I feel a pang of regret over my behavior after I left JAG, and in these last months, I've tried to make up for that. I know they've long since forgiven me, but I haven't quite been able to forgive myself yet.

We chat with the Roberts a while longer, and when it comes time for Lydia to eat again, they take their leave. I hug the two boys goodbye, give Harriet another kiss, and do the manly 'handshake, half-hug' with Bud. It was good to see them, but I'm also glad for the quiet time with my wife and daughter. Sarah has moved to the easy chair with Lydia, so I sit on the bed and just watch them. It's still hard for me to believe they're mine.

"Everything okay at the house?" Mac looks up from watching Lydia eat and gives me a soft smile; she must have noticed me staring at the two of them, a dazed look of love on my face.

"Yeah, no problems. I fed the animals, brought in the mail, checked the answering machine—just a few well-wishers, and got myself showered and shaved. When did Bud and Harriet get here?"

"A few minutes after you left." Her gaze drifts back to our daughter who continues to nurse hungrily.

My eyebrow lifts at that. "What, no three minutes, twenty-two seconds?"

A grin spreads across her face but her eyes stay on Lydia. "No…I think I was distracted by watching Lydia sleep. Oh, Harm…I never knew you could love someone like this, so quickly and completely." I see another tear track down her cheek, but I've gotten used to her 'happy tears.'

"It's amazing, isn't it?" I slide off the bed and sit down on the arm of Sarah's chair. I take in the sight of my daughter, her lips working furiously at Sarah's breast, her little fist curled against the swell of it.

"Yeah," Sarah sniffles. I chuckle a bit and run a hand over her hair. My girls are so sweet.

"I hope she likes her room." Lydia has come off the breast and fallen back asleep. Sarah adjusts her gown and expertly re-swaddles our daughter, then looks up at me expectantly.

"What," I ask, lifting Lydia from Sarah's arms and cradling her too me.

"Her room. Do you think she'll like it?" I doubt Lydia will actually have an opinion at this stage, and at any rate, she'll be in our room for at least a few months, but I humor Sarah.

"She's going to love it, sweetheart." We both did a lot of work to get it ready for her, and it really is beautiful, if I do say so myself. We painted the walls pale yellow and green with white trim, a 'Classic Pooh' border going around the room to separate the two colors. The floor is a beautiful hardwood and a few fuzzy rugs have been tossed around giving the room a cozy feel. The crib and dresser are white, as is the plush rocking chair that completes the room. I always thought any nursery we would create together would be more, ah, 'military' in design, but it turns out that Sarah had always envisioned her baby sleeping in a room decorated with Pooh…and not the newer, Disney-fied Pooh. Classic or nothing. It would have worked for either a boy or a girl, but I really can't picture anyone but our little girl sleeping in it.

Sarah runs a finger over our daughter's brow and down her cheek. "I think so too, honey. Thank you."

"What for?"

"For letting me buy a house because of the nursery," she answers.

"You're welcome, but we bought it for more than just that." I stand up and settle Lydia into her bassinet so I can help Sarah from the chair. She doesn't really need it, and I'm sure she'd be the first to express that, but I know she's a bit sore from the delivery. Hovering over her a bit makes me feel less guilty that I couldn't share in that burden. Most likely she knows why I'm doing it, and I'm grateful she's letting me.

"I know, but that room is what made me have to have that house. Do you remember when we first saw it?" Sarah smiles at the memory, and I know that my expression mirrors hers. We get settled on the bed and she snuggles into me.

"I do, Sarah…"

* * *

 _May 28_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1950 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

I watch as Sarah picks at her supper for the umpteenth night in a row. I take in the dark circles under her eyes; I know she didn't sleep well last night. I guess that means I didn't sleep well either, and really that hasn't been unusual these last few weeks. No matter how I try to reassure her that I'm not upset that we haven't been able to make love yet, she still feels guilty and her self-recriminations kill her appetite and fuel her tendency toward insomnia. All I can do is hold her and I'm enough of a nag that she's at least maintaining her weight.

"Sarah…" I say, and her huge, sad eyes meet mine.

"I'm sorry, Harm. It's very good…I'm just…" her voice fades and she looks back down at her plate.

"Not hungry?" I ask gently. She nods without looking up.

I get up from my chair with my plate, moving around the table to kiss the top of Sarah's hair as I lean over her shoulder to grab her plate as well. "Why don't you go hop in the shower and get ready for bed while I clean this up?"

"Harm, it's only 1952." _No problem with her timing, at least._

"Yeah, but I'm tired." I flash my grin at her. It isn't a lie, but I know she's more tired than I am.

"Then let me help, at least." Stubborn woman. I just want her to relax. She's pregnant, she has a stressful job, and she's dealing with more fallout from the Sadik situation.

"Fine," I say. "You can bring the rest of the dishes into the kitchen." There's only our water glasses still left, so I'm sure to be in for more protests. However, once we're both in the kitchen, she sets the glasses down and wraps her arms around me. I'm a little surprised but I return her embrace without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, Harm," she says into my chest. "It's been a rough day."

I'm sure it has been. She had an interview with a client she's defending on a larceny charge, and he's not one of the more brilliant stars of the Navy. She's been terribly frustrated with him, and then this afternoon she had an appointment with her therapist. She tried to hide it, but I know she'd shed some tears during it.

"That's okay, baby." I run my hands up and down her back in what I hope is a soothing manner. "All the more reason for you to turn in early tonight."

She nods under my chin, then pulls back a little, standing up on her toes to touch her lips to mine. I'm pleased when it's more than just a peck and I can't help but deepen the kiss. Her mouth opens and my tongue finds hers. The moment ends, though, when I feel her stiffen in my arms and push away. "I'm sor—" I start to stay, but she shakes her head, touching her fingers to my lips.

"Don't be, Harm. This is my problem, not yours." She lets go of me and turns away, heading toward the bedroom. _Dammit! Why can't she see that we're in this together?_ I feel the familiar rage rise up at the forces responsible for this, and I want to hit something. My hands clench the counter by the sink and I have to take several deep breaths to calm myself, and once that is accomplished, I decide to just put away the leftovers and leave the dishes for tomorrow. It'll be Saturday anyway.

I head up to the bedroom, hearing the shower come on. I turn down the bed, pull off my T-shirt and strip down to my boxers. I think I'll skip the shower tonight; I just want to crawl into bed and wait for Sarah. Unfortunately, my plans are interrupted by a loud, "Dammit!" from the bathroom.

I knock on the door and ask Sarah if she's okay. She doesn't answer, and of course I panic. The door is unlocked so I open it and poke my head in. "Sarah, honey?"

She shuts the water off and all I can hear is her crying. I immediately grab a towel before pulling open the shower door and then wrap it around her. I guide her over to the toilet, where I sit down and pull her onto my lap. I hold her tightly in against me; she tries to pull away at first but then to my relief, she relaxes, laying her head on my shoulder. "Sarah, sweetheart. It's okay. We'll get through this. We're in this together. It isn't just your problem, honey…" She shakes her head, and immediately I attempt to contradict her. "Sarah—"

"No, Harm. It isn't that." She doesn't elaborate, though.

I wait several seconds before I have to ask. "Then what is it?"

"I want a bath!" _Oh._

"Oh…I'm sorry, Sarah." I don't know what else to say. It's never bothered me that I don't have a tub, and I gotta say…my shower is pretty nice. Sarah and I have, ah, _enjoyed_ it together numerous times.

I'm pretty sure this is still about more than just my apartment's lack of a bathtub, but I'll accept it for now. She lets me hold her for another minute before she scoots off my lap, drying the last of her tears and apologizing for her outburst.

Sarah once told me to 'never apologize; it's a sign of weakness'; isn't it funny that we now find ourselves apologizing to each other all the time.

"No need, sweetheart. I'll let you finish in here and I'll just climb into bed, okay?" I give her shoulder a squeeze as I pass by her then return to the bedroom.

Not five minutes later, she's crawling in beside me. As always, she's a little hesitant to snuggle up to me, but soon I feel her against my side. My arm goes around her and I stroke her hair until she falls asleep. I pray that she'll stay that way.

* * *

 _0311 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

Sarah is blessedly still asleep, but it was my turn to be the insomniac this night. I only slept for a few hours before waking again, and now I've lain here for the last two. Sarah has her arm thrown over my chest and a leg slung over my hips. If she's sleeping fairly well, she reverts to her pre-Sadik comfort level with me. I love it, but it does create some, _ahem,_ problems.

When Sarah is restless, it makes sense that I am too. If she's better, I will sleep better, or…I won't. Being close to her like this awakens certain parts of me, and I always worry that my squirming will awaken _her._ Sometimes I have no choice but to leave our bed and go take matters into my own hands, so to speak, in the bathroom. We have tried a few times to be intimate, the last being a couple of days after we received and destroyed the tapes from Sadik's surveillance of Sarah's apartment. Sarah was more upset than I was when she ultimately backed away, and it took several minutes before I could calm her back down. I'm in no way angry with her, but as I've said before, I'd cheerfully resurrect Sadik Fahd and just as cheerfully kill him again. Well, maybe not cheerfully…the rage I feel toward him is still strong.

I shift a bit under Sarah, but that doesn't help anything. I do my best to turn my thoughts elsewhere but within a few minutes I'm easing out of bed and heading to the bathroom. I take care of things and am considering going for an early run when the shower catches my attention. I study it for a while before I realize that there would be an easier if more expensive method to solve the tub problem. I decide to head to the living room to start planning…

* * *

 _0404 Local_

 _Harm's Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

"Harm? Is everything okay?" I jump at Sarah's voice.

She smiles an apology for startling me and pads over to me in her bare feet. "What are you looking at?" She looks over my shoulder at my laptop. "Houses?"

"What do you think, Sarah? There really isn't enough space here for a baby, and while we could make do for a while, I don't want to bring up a baby in this neighborhood."

Sarah's about to go pull up another chair but I see that she's shivering. She's only wearing a T-shirt and boxers, and it's been a little cool in the mornings here. I tell her to wait and pull my sweatshirt over my head, then hand it to her. She puts it on, and, hoping she won't flinch away, I pull her over and sit her down on my lap. She lets me, even snuggles in, and I smile to myself. Things _are_ getting better. "Won't you get cold?" she asks, voice still laced with sleep.

"Nah, I'll be fine. But, tell me. What do you really think of our buying house?" I nuzzle her cheek with my nose and I'm inwardly ecstatic that she returns the caress.

"I…you…you want to? With me?" She sounds surprised. I don't know why; she's agreed to marry me, after all. But then I remember. This is Sarah MacKenzie and as long as I've known her, she has had difficulty recognizing her own worth. And come to think of it, I never _really_ asked her to marry me. I merely told the staff at Bethesda she was my fiancée, and through one of our silent conversations, we decided we were engaged.

I need to correct this…I need to get her a ring, get down on my knee, and ask her properly. She deserves that. She deserves every wonderful thing that can happen in this world.

"I do, Sarah. More than I can express." I kiss her cheek.

"Then I think…yes, let's start looking."

I'm suddenly outwardly ecstatic and I can't help myself from turning her and kissing her soundly. The kiss grows in intensity and she lets out a little whimper of pleasure. Unfortunately, this seems to break the spell and she pushes away. "I'm sor—"

I put a finger to her lips and shake my head. "It's okay, honey. We'll get there."

I feel her smile form under my finger and I have to stroke the softness of her lips before completely removing it. "Thanks, Harm."

"You're welcome. Now, sweetheart, we need to get you back to bed. You should sleep longer." And she should. She still looks fatigued and I want her to be as healthy as possible while she's carrying our baby. I stand with her still in my arms, feeling a slight twinge where Sadik's bullet shattered my arm. However, I've actually recovered remarkably well and carrying Sarah's slight form is no trouble.

Sarah rests her head on my shoulder and doesn't protest the return to the bedroom. In the dark of the early morning she's more willing to let her marine persona relax and soon I'm settling next to her on the bed. She takes off my sweatshirt and tosses it to the floor, then rolls toward me to drape an arm over my waist and place her head on my chest.

Sarah yawns, and asks in a sleepy voice, "So did you find any houses you liked?"

"Oh, maybe a few possibilities." I yawn as well.

"When do you think we can go talk to the bank about getting pre-approved?"

I think for a moment. "I probably have some free time on Monday afternoon if the admiral is down with it. I'll call him later today if that works for you."

"It will, sweetie." She yawns again and nestles herself further into my side.

I have another idea. "Hey, we have next Friday off for your ultrasound…maybe we can arrange to see some houses in the morning before it and a few more after that?"

Sarah nods. "Sounds good. Do you know a realtor?"

"No, but I bet Frank does. I'll call—" But Sarah is no longer listening. A soft snore tells me she's fallen asleep, and soon I'm able to join her.

* * *

 _June 4_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1122 Local_

 _House Hunting_

 _Reston, VA_

So far, we've seen two houses, one way above our budget, the other within budget but in need of a many improvements. I don't mind a fixer-upper, but with the baby coming, I doubt Sarah wants to dodge around pieces of lumbar and power tools. Our realtor, Roy Glennister, a friend-of-a-friend of Frank's, says he has many houses that he thinks we may like, so this is only the beginning. We're looking in Falls Church and Reston mainly, possibly in McLean. We have a few 'must-haves'; I need a great kitchen and a shop, Sarah needs a bathtub and large closets.

As we walk out of the second house, I check my watch. We should probably get going to Bethesda; Sarah has her big ultrasound today to make sure our baby is developing normally. It's also the one where we can find out the sex of the little one. Sarah and I discussed it; we both decided it would be easier to prepare for the baby's arrival if we knew what we're having ahead of time, and frankly, I don't think I can wait any longer.

Sarah is talking to Roy and I try to get her attention. She shakes the realtor's hand and turns toward me. "Harm, it's 1122. We should probably—"

"Get going?" I smile broadly at her. We're both pretty excited about today, nervous too, and the next hour and eight minutes are going to pass by slowly.

"Yeah." Her smile is just as big. Despite our current issues, we've been looking forward to this ultrasound for weeks.

Sarah is almost twenty-one weeks along. She's started to feel some movement, and I know for her that makes this all the more real. I, however, have not been able to feel anything when I place my hand over her belly, and I'm getting a bit impatient. Unfortunately, I've been told that I likely won't be able to feel anything for several weeks.

We say our goodbyes to Roy and agree to meet him around 1500 for a few more showings, then make our way to Bethesda.

* * *

 _1301 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Hospital_

 _Bethesda, MD_

Sarah nervously fidgets as she lies on the bed waiting for the doctor to start the ultrasound. We've already had the regular part of our appointment, and everything is looking good. Sarah's gained two pounds, so _I'm_ happy, and the baby's heartbeat is strong.

I reach over and grab Sarah's hand when the door opens revealing Dr. Angela Lowe, her Ob/gyn. She sits down on the stool by the ultrasound machine and asks us if we're ready to get started. We are more than ready, so she gets down to business, lifting Sarah's top and tucking a towel into her waistband. The gel they use has been sitting in a warmer so there's no shock of cold when the doctor squeezes it onto Sarah's rounded belly.

Dr. Lowe is a petite brunette with short hair similar to Sarah's. She wears glasses over her dark brown eyes, and right now she has an intense look of concentration on her face. I hope that doesn't mean anything…

However, her expression soon relaxes, and she turns to us with a smile. "I'll do a full anatomy scan today, and then we'll see if we can find out if you're having a little girl or a little boy, okay?"

We nod, and then Dr. Lowe starts to move the probe over Sarah. She points out various body parts: the brain, the skull, the heart, while taking measurements. We get to see the profile of our baby's face, and I'm sure I see Sarah in the black and white image. The doctor prints off several photos as she goes, and I can't wait to add them to our album of ultrasound pictures.

Finally, we get to the moment we've been waiting for. Are we having a little Harmlet or a Maclet? I coined those terms a while ago, and though Sarah rolls her eyes when she hears me referring to our baby as such, I know she's amused.

"Any guesses, you two?" Dr. Lowe asks, and Sarah and I answer "girl" simultaneously.

"Well…"

She looks up at us and grins. The suspense is killing me.

"You two were right. She is definitely a girl."

Sarah breaks out into a smile that rivals the sun. Tears are in her eyes as she looks up at me. I'm sure my expression is the same as hers, complete with the tears. "We're having a girl, Sarah!" I say in wonder. My grin grows mischievous. "A little Maclet."

She rolls her eyes as expected but all she says is, "Yeah, we are."

We walk out of there with probably a dozen pictures of our baby, our _girl_ , and I feel like I'm flying supersonic without the Tomcat. I can't resist picking Sarah up and spinning her around. "A girl, Sarah!" She giggles, and it's a sound I haven't heard in too long. We're in our civvies, so when I set her down I give her a kiss. I don't think I've ever been so happy.

"Happy, Harm?" Sarah asks, but by her expression I know the question was rhetorical.

I go into planning mode. "So, we gotta think of some names. We should probably start planning the nursery. Maybe we should check out some of the baby stores and price out some furniture. She'll need a crib, probably a, what do you call it? A bassinet—" Sarah grabs both of my forearms.

"Harm, Harm…slow down. We have some time. And we don't even _have_ a nursery yet. Let's take a breath. Get something to eat, then we'll need to meet Roy at that house in Falls Church. The brick one with the columns? Okay?"

Her words penetrate my racing brain. I put my arm around her, pulling her close and kissing her head. "You're right, Sarah. You know, I think we're going to find our house today. I have a good feeling."

Sarah smiles indulgently at me. I know she wants to tell me that we'll probably have to look at dozens of houses before we find one that suits our needs, but she keeps it to herself as she wraps an arm around my waist. With barely contained joy, we head to the car and set off for what could be our next home.

* * *

 _1735 Local_

 _House Hunting_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Well, the brick house will _definitely_ not be our next home. The kitchen was more of a galley and the biggest closet in the house was the linen closet in the upstairs hall. The next house wasn't much better with its low ceilings and small rooms. I felt like a bull in a china shop; with every move I risked knocking something down or whacking my head on a doorframe. Sarah thought it was cute...in the way one finds a dollhouse cute.

We're going to look at one more house today and pick up the search again in the morning. I'm beginning to think I was wrong in my prediction that we'd find our house today.

As we pull up to the large white house nestled among some trees, I start to perk up. So far so good. The porch is large, appears well-kept, and I can see a detached garage that looks big enough to hold all three of our vehicles. There is also a smaller building next to the garage and I can already see my shop in there.

We park and get out of the Lexus. It's a nice, warm day, beautifully sunny like our mood. Not even the two housing fails from earlier this afternoon can bring us down. Roy opens the front door for us, and we note that the house is empty.

"A navy captain and his wife lived here and were transferred about a month ago, a fairly quick move. They had two kids, a dog—the backyard is fenced by the way, and from what their realtor told me, they were sad to leave here."

We go through the first floor. There's a fireplace in the living room, beautifully maintained hardwood floors throughout, and a huge kitchen. I immediately imagine new countertops and cupboards, but that will likely have to wait. I'm sure this house is at the top end of our budget if not more.

I glance over at Sarah as we head for the stairs. She hasn't said much, but she doesn't look like she hates it.

Once we arrive on the second floor, Roy tells us about the bedrooms. There are four, the master having its own bathroom and, hooray! a walk-in closet. We head there first, and I'm pleased with the size of the bedroom. We'll have no problem fitting a king-sized bed in here…California King, actually. I'm not exactly a short man and I've always wanted one of those.

The master bath is next, and I watch Sarah's face light up when she sees the large whirlpool tub. Her smile turns to me and she winks. I know she's thinking of a prior moment in a tub in La Jolla, and I blush. I'm happy though, if she's "reminding" me of one of our passionate encounters, she's not shying away from sexual thoughts.

"What do you think so far?" I whisper in Sarah's ear as we head to the next room. She shrugs, I suppose not wanting to appear too eager. I can't imagine her not liking this place, however.

"Now this room would make a great nursery," Roy tells us. He knows Sarah's pregnant and knows a nursery near the master bedroom is important to us. He pushes the door open and we step in, Sarah first. She stops in the middle of the room and slowly turns around, taking everything in. The room is lovely, and I know Sarah agrees… _more_ than agrees. If the expression on her face is any indication, she's in love.

"Oh, Harm…this is our nursery!" She sounds so sure as she crosses to one of the three nearly floor length windows. They look out over the large fenced-in backyard and will let in a lot of light. I make a mental note that we should buy some blackout shades for the baby, but I find myself loving the brightness of the room as well. The walls are white, but I can see the wheels of Sarah's mind turning. I'm pretty sure she already has this place decorated.

Next, we check out the closet. It's large if not actually a walk-in and should do nicely in our daughter's _(our daughter's!)_ room. We're about to close the door of it when something catches Sarah's eye. She bends down a bit and runs her fingers over the names someone carved into the wall. "Adam loves Lydia," she reads, and the corners of her mouth turn up. Her gaze is soft as she looks up at me. "Harm, this is the house."

I want to warn her that we still haven't heard the price, someone else's offer may be accepted…we may not get it, but I can't. She looks so happy and happy is something she's struggled with a bit these last few weeks. I become determined to get this house for her.

"Let's see…" Sarah is speaking again. "We could put the crib here…and then maybe a dresser here. She'll need a bookshelf, of course. And I think the changing table should be here," she motions to one of the walls. "We'll throw down some rugs, put a rocking chair in here…our baby's going to love it, Harm!" She comes up to me and throws her arms around me. I feel the firm mound of her belly press against me and suddenly I think I see what Sarah sees. This _is_ our baby's room.

We get ready to leave our daughter's future nursery eventually, Roy having told us he'll meet us back downstairs. Sarah stops once more at the closet, looking inside at the two names carved into the wall again. As we walk down the hall toward the third bedroom, she wonders aloud who Adam and Lydia were. I tell her maybe Roy has an idea, and when I cross over the threshold to the next bedroom, I hear Sarah mutter softly behind me with a wistful lilt.

"Hmmmm," she whispers. _"Lydia."_

 _End Chapter 4_


	5. If I Fell

_A/N: Finally, here is Chapter 5. It took me a while and I waffle between felling 'meh' about this chapter and liking it. I was hoping to have my other story, "An Unlikely Angel" finished by Christmas, but alas, it wasn't to be. I_ will _definitely still work on it, and I definitely plan to have it finished before next Christmas! But without further ado…_

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 5: If I Fell**

 _September 22, 2004_

 _2302 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

 _It's always the same. The same images. The same players. The same horrors. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah…please help me…_

I start awake, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed and an unfamiliar room. I don't know where I am for a moment, but the sound of Sarah's soft breathing reminds me that I'm with her at Bethesda. My bed is a foldout couch, and it feels hard under my six. My heart is pounding and I'm breathing heavily. I shiver as the sweat evaporates off my body; I want to pull the sheet and blanket over me again, but I find they are tangled around my legs. My teeth are actually chattering, and I am embarrassed at my reaction to my most recent nightmare. At least no one is awake here to witness it.

I take that back. I feel a warm presence and then someone is sitting down and wrapping her arms around me from behind. I lean back into her embrace as she nuzzles my back with her nose. "Same dream, sweetheart?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah…" I'm embarrassed again when I hear the tremulousness of my voice. You'd think after so many months I wouldn't still react this way.

"Harm, don't think like that."

"Like what?"

"That you shouldn't be reacting that way anymore. You went through something very traumatic, and those memories don't just disappear. And I would imagine having Lydia brings up more of those memories."

Sarah's right, of course. It shouldn't by now, but it still amazes me that she knows me so well that she can practically read my mind.

I feel her rise up a bit to place a kiss behind my ear. Her soft breath wisps across my cheek as she leans forward to rest her face next to mine. Her arms are now draped over my shoulders. "Come on, sailor, why don't you climb in next to me? We can talk."

I reach my hands up to cover hers. "You're sweet, honey, but Lydia will wake up soon, I'm sure, and you should sleep while you can."

"Lydia just ate, and I had them take her to the nursery. You were restless," she says, standing up, but still keeping her hands on me. Now she's gently massaging my shoulders and it feels so good that I nearly miss what she just told me. Once it registers, I lean away from her and twist around so I can look at her.

"Oh, god, Sarah. I'm sorry. I've probably kept both of you up." I'm filled with remorse. _She shouldn't have to deal with this—_

But wait. That kind of thinking is what caused so much trouble before. I will _not_ take us down that road again.

"Harm, dear, your daughter wakes up every two hours on the dot. I'm going to make a guess that it is _she_ who keeps me up. Now, let's get in bed. I'll sleep better with you next to me anyway. Alright?"

Without waiting for my answer, Sarah climbs back into bed, scooting to the far edge of it to give me room to lie down. I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I should. But I really want to be held by my wife and she's giving me such a gentle look of understanding that I can resist no longer.

Once I'm settled, Sarah snuggles up to me, laying her hand over my heart. We lie silently together in the semi-dark of her room for a few moments before I have to ask her something. "So…" Her head lifts up slightly.

"Yes, Harm?"

"So, she's _my_ daughter when she keeps you up?" I tease with a little grin. She lightly swats my chest.

"Well, you've given me several sleepless nights over the years. I figure she gets it from you."

"Ah, I see. And when she's the perfect angel, she's all yours, right?"

"You catch on quick, Flyboy!" We both chuckle a bit at our banter before quieting. After a few seconds, Sarah starts tracing little circles on my chest. I still feel the tension in my body and I'm sure she feels it as well. I also suspect she has something more to say to me. _May as well cut to the chase._

"Sarah, honey…you obviously have something on your mind, so out with it."

She sighs. "Are you going to be okay? I mean…do you think your, I mean, it, will get bad again?"

"No, I don't." I'm being honest with her; I really don't think I'll sink back into the darkness of my own PTSD, but we both know it isn't that simple. "I can't say that I'll never have another nightmare, and I can't say I'll never have another flashback, but I believe with all my heart that we've been through the worst of it."

"It's just—just—well, you've had the nightmares more frequently in the last couple of weeks…"

I look down at her in surprise. She's right, but I thought I'd done pretty well in hiding it. I thought, or perhaps more accurately, _hoped,_ she was sleeping through most of it. "I didn't know you knew…"

"I'm sorry I didn't ask you about it sooner. I've been so tired by the time night rolled around for these last couple of weeks that I'd fall back to sleep almost immediately. By the time morning rolled around, you seemed okay…I'm sorry, Harm."

"No need…I really was okay for the most part. I think it was just the normal worry about my pregnant wife and coming baby that triggered it, not the—the other stuff."

"What about this time?" Sarah reaches her arm across my chest, wrapping her hand around my shoulder and pulling me in closer to her. "You're still pretty tense." She runs her hand over my shoulder and chest in soothing motions. She's right; I am a little more keyed up. The dream was a bit more vivid than usual and I suppose I'm having the normal stress that being a new father brings. "Do you want to tell me about it?" she asks, pressing a kiss to my T-shirt clad chest.

"No…it wasn't all that different from any of the other dreams I've told you about. I'm okay, I promise." It really is the truth.

Sarah leans up on her elbow and narrows her eyes at me. After a few seconds, she lays back down, seemingly satisfied with my response. Of course, I'm sure she senses that I haven't completely calmed down yet. She continues her warm caresses for a while, then I feel more than see her smile. "Tell me a story, Harm."

I have to smile back. I know what she's trying to do; we've done this before. "Which one, sweetheart?"

"Hmmmmm, how about when the brave sailor asked the princess to marry him?"

I grin in the dim light. This isn't the first time she's requested that one.

This 'story telling' started one night after a particularly horrendous nightmare shot me out of bed, calling out Sarah's name. I'll admit I was terrified, shaking and hyperventilating, wishing I was five years old again so I could crawl into my mother's lap and cry.

It took Sarah a while to calm me down enough to get me back to bed, doing her best to soothe away the demons. Had the situation been reversed, I would have sung something to calm her. She'd never be comfortable doing the same, so instead, not knowing what else to do, she started talking about our first case together. Her tale and the quiet gentleness of her voice gradually cut through the panicked haze of my brain, and I found myself jumping in, adding to the story when I thought she had missed an important point. Eventually she let me take over the narrative, and in the telling of it and her tender touch, I calmed. I even felt at peace.

Since then, if a nightmare or flashback disturbs that peace, Sarah will ask me to tell her about one of our many adventures together. Talking about our history, being reminded of the love we've always had for each other, softens the jagged edges of the harrowing experiences we've had over the last couple of years.

I once asked her, since I will sing to her if she's upset, why it was me who always had to tell the story. She only smiled and kissed me, telling me it just worked that way. And it does…

I press a kiss to the crown of her head. "Hmmmm, you really want that one again?" She nods against me. Of course she does. "Well, then. Do you want the long or the short version?"

"The long version, of course." She settles even more into my side and I reach my hand up to cover hers as it once again rests over my heart.

"Your wish is my command, Sarah." I give her hand a squeeze and prepare to tell her again the tale of "Harmon and Sarah's Engagement."

I pull the sheet and blanket over us and get comfortable. "Ready, my love?"

"Ready," she answers.

"Once upon a time…"

* * *

 _July 2_ _nd_ _, 2004_

 _1649 Local_

 _Universal Title_

 _Falls Church, VA_

"We just bought a house, Harm." Sarah sounds a little awed that we are now homeowners. We've just left the title office, keys in hand, and I think we're both a little giddy.

"That we did, Sarah." And then suddenly I'm more than just a little giddy. I can't hold in my excitement as I pick up Sarah and spin her around. She demands I put her down, but her un-marine-like giggling tells me she isn't terribly serious about that. I give her a firm kiss on her mouth when I finally do return her to the ground and to my delight, she pulls me in for another before I can release her. She's been freer and more open with her affection lately, and I am hopeful she'll soon let me show her physically how much I love her.

"So…do we have time to stop by the house before we need to—no, we don't, do we." Sarah sounds disappointed. We need to get back to the apartment and get ready for the admiral's retirement party. His retirement was official a week ago, and Harriet convinced him to let her organize a party for him…at his own home. I feel a little weird about that; the last JAG gathering there had been for Sarah's engagement to Brumby and we all know how that ended.

"We'll swing by there tomorrow, honey." I wrap my arm around her shoulders as we walk back to her car. It's a beautiful day; it may be July, but for once it isn't oppressively hot. I get Sarah settled in the driver's seat before I walk around to the passenger side, opening the door and folding myself into the car.

"I'm going to get too big pretty soon to get behind the wheel in this thing," Sarah says ruefully. I look over at her rounded belly, adorably clad in a maternity sundress. She still has plenty of room, but ever since she had to switch to a maternity uniform, she has been more self-conscious of her changing body. She's also had to scale back on her workouts, which unsurprisingly makes her a tad testy. Overall, though, since the hyperemesis resolved, I think she has enjoyed pregnancy. And I have to say it…she really does glow.

"I think it's cute," I tell her, winking at her as she rolls her eyes. She doesn't say anything as she puts the car into gear and head toward the apartment. When we're halfway there and she still hasn't said anything, I get a little worried that I really did upset her. I can't take it anymore and I have to break the silence. "Um, Sarah, I…I'm sorry."

She looks over at me briefly before returning her eyes to the road. She actually seems a little confused. "About what, Harm?"

"The, uh, 'cute' remark." I'm a little surprised when she laughs.

"No, Harm, I'm sorry. I'm not upset, just a little tired and I've been thinking about moving…what to use of yours, of mine…or maybe just chucking it all and buying all new. And for the record, while I would prefer to be told that I was stunning, gorgeous, enchanting…coming from you, 'cute' is fine."

I grin and lean over to give her a peck on the cheek. "You are, you know. Gorgeous. Stunning. Enchanting…and cute. I love you, Sarah MacKenzie."

Sarah reaches over and squeezes my hand briefly before she takes hers back to shift gears. "I love you too, Harmon Rabb."

We sit in companionable silence for a few more minutes before I realize what she said about our 'stuff.' "Uh, Sarah…I don't think…I mean, we really shouldn't…"

"Shouldn't what, sweetie?"

"We probably shouldn't buy _all_ new…with the baby…a mortgage…uh...a wedding—" Suddenly I realize what _I_ just said. Oh my god. A wedding. I haven't even officially asked her to marry me…

"What wedding would that be?" She sounds a little churlish and I know that this time, I _have_ stepped in it. She doesn't have a ring yet, we haven't talked about setting a date…I don't even know if she wants to marry me before the baby is born or after. _Oh shit._

"Sarah…" I don't really know what to say or how to say it.

" _Harm…"_ she parrots, her tone sarcastic. Did I mention she's been a bit moody of late? But I can't blame her. I mean, I am an idiot. I should have been married to her for years by now.

"We need to talk about that, don't we?" I comment, a bit sheepishly. I hear her sigh next to me. "We will, Sarah. Soon. Okay?" She doesn't say anything. I tap her on the shoulder. Her eyes slide to mine for a mere second. "Okay?"

She heaves a sigh again. "Okay, Harm." I can't really tell if she's actually upset or if it's the fatigue. I think she works too hard; it seems to me that she feels she has something to prove after taking several weeks off from work due to PTSD and then pregnancy. She's afraid our coworkers and friends will see her as weak, and no matter how many times I tell her that they would never see her that way, that _I_ would never see her that way, she still remains her harshest critic.

I leave her in peace for the remainder of the ride home as I think about marrying her. I do actually have the ring. I designed it myself with the help of a jeweler my mother knows. The band is a delicate antiqued gold filigree, the 0.75 carat round cut diamond flanked by two rubies. One might think I'm cheap given the diamond isn't even a full carat, but it isn't that at all. The color and clarity of the diamond are excellent, and Sarah isn't into anything gaudy or showy. She is all grace and elegance. When she told me how she traded Brumby's ring for a young marine held by Indonesian authorities, she let it slip that she never liked the thing. It was too much, too obvious. I think that sums up Brumby as well, but I didn't tell her _that._

My thoughts turn to the wedding itself. I'm fairly certain that Sarah wants something simple, even if it isn't on a hillside with goats (I'm just not willing to agree to that), but will she want to wait until the baby is here so she can fit into the dress of her dreams? And what exactly is the dress of her dreams? I never saw the dress she'd planned to wear at her wedding to Brumby…but I really, really hope she doesn't pick anything similar to that.

Before I know it, we've reached the apartment. Sarah is still quiet, but she doesn't seem to mind when I slip my arm around her shoulders, so I risk a kiss to her head. I'm relieved when she leans into me a bit.

Once we're inside, we quickly ready ourselves for the admiral's party. I dress in a basic sport coat and tie; I note with some chagrin that it is similar to what I wore to the MacKenzie/Brumby engagement party all those years ago. Sarah comes down the steps from the bedroom wearing another sundress; it's a red floral maternity dress with, god help me, a halter top.

Sarah must notice my eyes bug out because she starts looking down at the dress, smoothing it and obviously searching for some defect. Finally, she gives up and looks at me. "What, Harm?"

"N-nothing, Sarah. It's just…I mean, look at us." She's obviously confused. I should probably let it drop because she likely doesn't want to be reminded of that fateful night on the admiral's porch, but I can't help it. "Come here." I lead her back up the steps to look in the full-length mirror in the corner. We stare at our reflections for a few seconds when it finally dawns on her.

"Oh, lord, Harm. We look just like—"

"Yeah."

She scrutinizes our images for a few moments more before she speaks again. "On the other hand, we do look fabulous, Harm." She flashes a brilliant grin. "Anyway, I don't have anything else appropriate that fits and doesn't draw too much attention to this." She pats her belly.

I drop a kiss on her bare shoulder and wrap my arms around her from behind, resting my hands over our baby. "I don't know, I kinda like everyone knowing you're pregnant and that I'm responsible."

Sarah rolls her eyes at me, but she looks amused. "Yes, I'm sure everyone knowing how virile you are does make you pretty proud." She turns in my embrace and I feel the firmness of her abdomen against me. She is absolutely correct. I am pretty proud of this.

She wraps her arounds around my neck. "Are you ready to go, honey?" She stands up on her toes, still in her bare feet, and places a light kiss on my lips. Or at least I thought it was going to be light. She surprises me by deepening the kiss and as her tongue begs entrance to my mouth, I pull her tightly against me. The kiss takes on a life of its own and her whimper of pleasure is an answer to my low groan. She finally draws away from me, but she moves ever so slowly, her eyes dark with desire. My pants are suddenly too small, and I feel flushed. I close my eyes for a moment, willing my body to calm down, and when I open them, Sarah's grin is mischievous. "Sorry about that," she whispers.

"I'm not," I whisper back, cupping her cheek and stroking it with my thumb. I hope we can continue this later tonight, but I won't push.

Sarah flashes an impish grin. "We really better get going…I'll just get my shoes and freshen this." She waves her hand at her swollen lips. She turns toward the bathroom and I can't resist patting her on her six as she walks away.

God, I love that woman.

* * *

 _2117 Local_

 _Chegwidden Residence_

 _McLean, VA_

I've never seen the admiral, excuse me, AJ, look so relaxed. He may be only a week into it, but retirement obviously agrees with him. I watch as he leads Maria out to the makeshift dance floor. That's another thing that surprises me. There's dancing! I love dancing with Sarah. Our bodies just seem to fit together, even now with her pregnancy, and contrary to what she thought at one time, dancing with her has never felt like dancing with my sister.

I've just taken a turn with Harriet and now I'm back at Sarah's side. She's been chatting with Jennifer Coates, admiring the petty officer's ring from Gunny, and in general looking happy. I wrap my arm around her waist and she rests her head against my shoulder as she stifles a yawn. "Tired?" I ask, drawing her more into my side and kissing her temple.

"Yeah, always, but I'm not ready to leave just yet. It's nice to finally get out, and look how happy AJ is. I never thought I'd see him like this." AJ must feel our gaze on him; he turns his head away from Maria for a moment, flashing us a quick smile.

"Hey, sweetie…"

I look down at the sound of Sarah's voice and find that she is staring up at me, the impish grin back on her face. "Join me out on the porch?" My eyes widen in surprise; I wouldn't have thought she'd want to revisit that evening, or the scene of the crime as it were. But she's probably thought of that kiss as often as I have over the years…and maybe she'd like to experience it again without the weight of guilt it carried last time. She moves out from under my arm and holds her hand out to me. I take it and together we walk to the door and out into the warm night air.

* * *

 _2119 Local_

 _The Admiral's Porch_

 _McLean, VA_

The evening has cooled a bit and there is even a light breeze, somewhat unusual for Virginia in July. Sarah leans forward against the railing, and I take a moment to admire the smoothness of her skin before I lean my back against the railing to face her. She's beautiful in the moonlight and I find myself reaching toward her to trace a finger down her cheek. "What are you thinking about, Sarah?" I ask in a near whisper.

It's a few beats before she answers. "Nothing much really…just thinking that we're in a very different place now than we were the last time here."

I give her a small smile. "I think that would be a bit of an understatement."

She looks down at her hands. "Yeah…true enough. You know, I brought you out here to kiss you, but now I can't help thinking about how much time we've wasted. If we'd just told each other how we really felt then…or if I'd said something in Russia, or if you said something at Little AJ's baptism…where would we be now?" I'm about to answer her but then she speaks again. "Or maybe this was how it was all supposed to happen. Maybe we weren't really ready back then and we needed to go through all that crap to get to this point, you know?" She looks up at me, her chocolate-amber eyes luminous in the moonlight.

I lean toward her, running a hand down her arm and pulling her toward me. Once she's in my arms, I cradle her to me and whisper in her ear. "Maybe we did, sweetheart. Oh, I wish we could have been spared all the heartbreak and sometimes I think I'd do anything to go back to those times or to Sydney, but then I think about what we have now and I wouldn't change any of it. We're having a baby, Sarah!" I'm still in awe of that fact, if one couldn't tell. I slide my hand down to caress the roundness of her.

I hear her sigh of contentment. "I love you, Harm." She turns in my arms and wraps hers around my neck. Her lips find mine and for a moment I'm lost in the taste of Sarah MacKenzie. I'm surprised, though, when I pull back and see tears on her cheek. I swipe them away with my thumb, leaving my hand there to cup her cheek.

"What's wrong, honey?"

She smiles through her tears. "Absolutely nothing, Harm." She chuckles lightly. "Hormones, you know. And, I'm…I'm just, well, happy!"

I have to laugh a little as well. It's amusing and sweet to see my kickass jarhead this way, even though I'll never tell her that…namely because she _is_ a kickass jarhead. I fold her into my arms again and brush my lips across hers. I start to draw away, but she follows and suddenly we find ourselves kissing hungrily, our mouths devouring, our tongues clashing. Her arms snake around my neck and her fingers weave themselves into my hair. My pants are once again too tight as I stroke the bare skin of her back. Sarah's hands move to my face and I feel her fingers dance over my ears.

"Are you ready to go?" She breathes into my mouth.

I'm more than ready.

Sarah makes our excuses; anxious to get us on our way, she doesn't want to wait until I'm in a condition to be seen publicly. Once she returns, we hastily make our way to the Lexus and then we're off.

As we drive through the city, Sarah reaches over and runs her hand along my thigh. It reminds me of another night...a warm September night. We had just found each other again, but we were in a much darker place than at any other time in our relationship. We'd left Rooster's intent on finally consummating the 'thing' between us. Sarah had ridden along beside me as we rushed back to her apartment, leaning across the console, her hand stroking my manhood through my jeans. I was in pain by the time we reached her place, my arousal so great yet so confined. Once freed, the only thing that could quench the fire in my loins was Sarah MacKenzie.

I think of that time with a mixture of shame and excitement. It was our first time together, it was what we had both wanted for a long time, but we were doing it for the wrong reasons. That doesn't, however, change the fact that I had one of the most intense sexual experiences of my life that night. I just wish those first times weren't borne of anger, frustration, regret, unrequited love…but I guess that's water under the bridge now.

I'm brought back to the present when her fingers dance across my crotch and I suck in a breath as she presses against the bulge there. _Oh, fu—_

" _Sarah!"_ I gasp as I squirm in my seat. She gives me a low, sultry chuckle, and I fight the urge to pull over right now and drag her across my lap. I consider letting her release my erection and relieve the ache with her mouth or hands, but that would surely get us into an accident. That wouldn't go over well with the navy; I can imagine Secretary Sheffield reading the headline: "Decorated Naval Officer Crashes While Receiving Fellatio." Having no other viable options, I lay on the gas a little more. It still feels like hours before we reach the loft.

For once the elevator is in working order so I can indulge in pressing her up against the wall of it, one hand buried in her hair as I plunge my tongue into the warm recesses of her mouth. The other cups her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. She has her hands on my six, pulling me toward her so my erection is trapped against her stomach. God, I could come right here.

The elevator stops with a lurch and we break apart. I grab her hand and we race down the hall to my, that is, _our,_ apartment. As soon as we make it through the door, I slam it shut, backing her up against it, covering her body with mine.

And then something shifts.

It's subtle at first, but gradually I feel her tense against me. Her lips fall from mine, and I nearly cry. Not in frustration, although there is definitely that, but because once again we have been robbed and Sarah will be deluged with guilt. The now familiar rage courses through me at this; at least I'm used to hiding it from her by now. I wrap my arms around her and draw her in. She's shaking and suddenly I'm no longer angry. She doesn't need that-she needs my love. She's hurting. I try to ignore the fact that I'm hurting too.

"It's okay, Sarah. It's okay." I try to soothe her, but I'm probably not doing a good job of it given the tremor in my voice.

"No, Harm. It-it isn't. Please, I want…I want you to make love to me," she whispers.

"Honey, we don't have to do this, not if you're not ready. You don't have to do it for me."

Sarah pulls away slightly, and I can tell it's an effort for her to meet my eyes. She does though; she's still my brave marine. "No, I'm not. I want this. I'm ready…but, well, it's still hard. Please, just…just be gentle." She reaches her hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me down to touch her lips with mine. The kiss is tentative at first but gradually deepens. I let her take the lead, letting her be the one whose tongue runs along the seam of my lips. I open them for her and we slowly taste each other again. She hasn't completely relaxed in my arms yet, but the trembling is gone. When she breaks the kiss, I scoop her up and carry her to our bed.

I set her down in the middle of it and start to work on her sandals. I've already kicked my shoes off, and as soon as hers are on the floor next to them, I get on the bed, stretching out beside her. I start by running my palm down her bare arm. She shivers, but a quick look into her eyes tell me is wasn't due to fear or cold. I repeat the gesture, following that up by resting my hand on her waist for a few seconds. When I see that she's comfortable, I slide my hand from her waist down over her hip. Each stroke of my hand is slow, and I revel in touching her. My hand travels upward and soon my thumb is teasing the underside of her breast. Maintaining eye contact, I touch her more intimately. I want to be sure I notice if I start to do something that's not okay. So far, so good.

Almost shyly, Sarah finally starts touching me too, her caress feather-light on my cheek. My hand covers hers and holds it in place against my face. I turn to kiss her palm and then we resume our discovery of each other's bodies. I don't say anything; I don't want to break the spell that has fallen over us. We are in our own little world and only the bed and the two of us exist inside this bubble.

My need for her is growing again and I am nearly desperate to be skin to skin with her. My manhood strains painfully against the confines of my pants and I wonder if she's ready to take the next step. I'll wait for as long as she needs, but it is so terribly hard. She's so soft in my arms.

After a few more minutes of kissing and petting, Sarah's body now seems entirely relaxed, so I reach around to the back of her neck. My fingers stop at the clasp of the halter and she knows what I'm asking. At her nod, I make quick work of it and then feel for the zipper of the dress. Non-verbal permission is swiftly granted for this next task. Her zipper lowers…

My hands slip inside the now larger opening of her dress and I am nearly undone by the warmth of her skin.

I need more.

I sit her up so I can pull the dress over her head and now she is clad only in her bra and panties. Don't ask me how she kept the bra from showing above the low back of her dress.

I guide Sarah back to rest against the stacks of pillows that mysteriously found their way here after Sarah moved in. I keep my hands busy, teasing bare skin and undoing hindering garments. Her breasts are freed, and I take a cinnamon nipple into my mouth as I stroke and rub her pregnant belly. I find it terribly erotic to see and feel the irrefutable evidence of my virility; I am nothing if not male.

Sarah's hands have not been idle and they continue to trail over my body. As she makes another pass over my chest, I capture her fingers and hold them to the buttons of my dress shirt. I ditched the jacket long ago; it now lies in the back seat of the Lexus where I tossed it as we left AJ's party.

Sarah understands what I want. Button by button she opens my shirt and then pushes it off my shoulders. Her fingernails skim across my chest before she moves to undo my belt; my pants and boxers disappear shortly thereafter.

We are now both completely nude and we have yet to say a word. At least not with our mouths-our eyes are a different story. Whole conversations have been held with a single glance. I know she sees my love for her in my eyes, and I see the trust and love in hers. It is humbling, overwhelming…and I have to be inside her.

I search out her center to make sure she's ready for me. My fingers slip inside her and she writhes around them as she arches her back. She is wet. Ready. I look into the deep pools of her eyes and she nods.

I want to see Sarah's face as I enter her, and as the classic missionary position is out of the question at the moment, I have her straddle me. The heat of her is intoxicating.

Our eyes lock. Sarah's are full of desire, but also something else. Fear perhaps? Probably a little. I brush a strand of her hair behind her ear and lean up to give her a soft kiss, wanting to reassure her that whatever we do or don't do is okay with me. I see in her gentle smile that she understands what I'm trying to convey. We hold each other's gaze for several beats, then she shifts positions so that I'm poised at her entrance. Slowly she lowers herself down, engulfing me. _Oh my god._ This is pure ecstasy.

I allow her to stretch to accommodate me, and then slowly, carefully, I start to move. Sarah gasps and my gaze flies to her face. It's clear it was a gasp of pleasure.

We are quiet as we make love this time; the only sounds in the room are our ragged breathing, our gasps and sighs.

I'm getting close and the way Sarah clenches her walls around me, I know she is too. And then I feel it building, building until the world fractures around me and I empty myself completely inside her. I bite back a cry as she comes around me as well. Her body shudders with her orgasm as I let the aftershocks of mine flow over me. I can tell hers is just as intense, though she came quietly with just a strangled gasp. We rest for a moment, still connected, her face buried in my neck. It's then that I feel a wetness there that isn't my own sweat.

I rock her back and forth. "Sarah, Sarah…d-don't cry…" My voice comes out all choked up and I that's when I notice there are tears on my face as well.

We are quite the pair.

"Oh, H-harm." She takes a deep shuddering breath. That…that was, oh, Harm…" She's crying in earnest now. So am I, for that matter. We've exorcised another demon, after all.

And my Sarah has finally come home.

* * *

 _July 3_ _rd_ _, 2004_

 _0743 Local_

 _Harm ( &Mac's) Apartment_

 _North of Union Station_

The next morning sees us making love again. There are no tears this time, but the experience is no less powerful. Nor was it less powerful when she awoke in the early morning hours and reached for me. After we are both sated, I intend to just cuddle with her for a while. I am disappointed when she wants to get up after only a few minutes, but she's hungry and I won't stand in the way of that. After breakfast, she wants to go to the house. She is nearly giddy with excitement, and if she had any less appetite, I think she would have forgone breakfast entirely to get us there faster.

We decide to shower together to 'save time.' One can guess how that ended, even with Sarah's haste to get going. Our encounter there more than makes up for the lack of cuddling before. While she finishes readying herself, I make us a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. Sarah snarfs hers down in record time and then watches me impatiently while I eat in a manner that won't cause me to choke. I also just want to take the time to admire her in her shorts and maternity top. It's just too damn cute. Sexy too; those long, bronzed legs of hers…aaand now I'm imagining them wrapped around me. _Knock it off, Rabb!_

"Are you ready yet?" Sarah's voice is impatient. She's rummaging through the cupboards, letting out a squeal of triumph when she finds what she seeks: Pop-tarts. I roll my eyes in disgust. I'll never understand her affection for them, and the worst part is she eats them cold. She drops a 2-pack of S'mores flavor into her purse and laughs when she sees my expression. "Don't worry, Flyboy. I'll share."

Okay, so I have developed a certain predilection for _that_ flavor. So I sneak a package into my briefcase every once in a while. So I ate one every night when Sarah was still in La Jolla…they're still disgusting. I grab an extra pack and slide it into her purse when she isn't looking.

"I saw that, Rabb." _Damn. Busted._

I put my arm around her and start leading her across the room. "If you tell anyone, I'll have to kill you, you know."

She laughs as we head out the door. It's a beautiful sound.

* * *

 _July 10_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1148 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

It's moving day. AJ, Sturgis, Gunny, and I are doing the heavy lifting, although I think I spend half my time taking boxes away from Sarah. No matter how many times I've told her to take it easy, she still feels the need to push the envelope. She keeps telling me she's pregnant, not an invalid, but I don't care if the boxes she insists on carrying are the lighter ones. I don't want her doing anything that could hurt her or the baby.

When Sarah isn't outside making me crazy, she's inside with Jen and Harriet directing the troops and unpacking boxes. We'd like to at least get the kitchen up and running, along with our bedroom, today. Earlier in the week our new bedroom set was delivered, and I'm really looking forward to breaking in the new California King-sized bed. The bedding we finally agreed on has been washed and is waiting to be put on the new mattress, and I hope Sarah waits for me before she tackles that task.

Harriet comes out to let us know that Bud will be by with the kids and pizza soon; with his leg, moving furniture and the like would be a bit much for him. He's staying with their children while Harriet helps organize things here. I'm looking forward to Bud's arrival; though the JAG staff has gotten together as recently as AJ's retirement party and then again at a Fourth of July barbeque hosted by the Roberts', it's always great to see everyone outside of work.

Sarah comes out of the house then, reaching up to give me a quick peck on the lips as soon as she reaches my side. Suddenly we find ourselves the object of the stares of our coworkers. They all have goofy grins on their faces. "What?" I ask.

"We're just very happy for you two, sir," Gunny says, his grin widening. Gunny was a witness to some of Sarah's and my worst moments in Paraguay, and for years he watched us at JAG, so he understands more than most how far we've come.

Sarah's arm wraps around my waist and she gives me a squeeze. "We're pretty happy too," she says, leaning up to kiss me again. I'm thrilled with these little public displays of affection. In the week since we were finally able to make love again, something has released in her. She's happier, more open, and there is aura of joy about her that I don't think she's ever had before, not in her entire life.

We all stand there on the sidewalk, our silly grins widening again when Jen comes out and sidles up to Gunny. The admiral's gaze is wistful as he observes his 'children'; I'm sure he's missing Maria right now. She had to return to San Diego after the Fourth, and no doubt he's itching to join her. Given that he's retired, he could go at any time, but he, too, is protective of Sarah and he wanted to help us move.

A few minutes later, Bud arrives and we all break for lunch. Sarah holds baby Jimmy on her shrinking lap as she eats her meat lover's pizza, while Little AJ sits between me and his namesake, regaling us with stories from daycare. He's hard to follow, but he's enthusiastic and AJ and I respond accordingly.

It's hot, humid, the work hard, but so far it's a great day.

* * *

 _2008 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Our friends have all gone home and I've just come from the shower. Damn, but it's a nice shower and I see Sarah and I spending a lot of time there together. The tub, I'm sure, will have similar uses.

As I walk into our bedroom, I see the box that has Sarah's engagement ring in it. I've been trying to plan the perfect proposal; short of doing it in the White House Rose Garden, I'm not sure anything will be good enough. I'm sure candles will be involved, a fancy dinner, but honestly, that seems a bit too clichéd. I'm sure Sarah will be happy with whatever I do, but she deserves, well, everything. Every perfect, wonderful, amazing thing in this life.

I pull the ring from under what is basically junk from my bedroom. I open the little box to see the sparkle of the diamond and rubies, and this ring, I think, is as perfect as anything could possibly be. I'm not bragging, even though I designed it. It's just that it is so 'Sarah' and I put all our years of friendship of love into it.

I hear some movement in the hall and I quickly snap the ring box closed and slip it into the pocket of my shorts. Sarah, however, doesn't come into the room, and after a few minutes, I go looking for her. I don't have to go far.

I push open the door to our future nursery. Sarah stands at the window, the late evening sun shining through and casting a halo around her. She's clad in a simple T-shirt that outlines the swell of her breasts and the gentle roundness of her belly. She's beautiful, a Madonna, and it hits me that _this_ is the right moment. This is the moment to ask her to spend her life with me. I pull the ring from my pocket and get down on one knee.

"Sarah?"

Sarah turns toward me and her hand goes to her mouth, covering her 'O' of surprise. She steps toward me.

"Sarah, I make a living with words, but with you I've often failed miserably. So many times, my words or lack thereof have hurt you and I'm sorry for that. But we've come so far in the last year, and letting go with you was the best decision of my life. I've said it before, you've come farther with me than anyone else ever has. I have loved you for what feels like forever, you are the mother of my child, and I would be the happiest man in the world if you would agree to be my wife. Marry me?"

There are tears in her eyes that spill over as she nods. "Yes, Harm, yes. I'd love to marry you." She holds out her left hand and I slide the ring onto her finger. She kneels down next to me and throws her arms around me. "Oh, Harm. It's beautiful. It's perfect." She leans back from me. "You're perfect." Her lips find mine and we seal our engagement with a sweet, loving kiss. "I love you, Harm."

I feel a suspicious moisture in my eyes. I am so far from perfect, and yet I hold this most beautiful woman in my arms. I'm not talking about her physical beauty, although she definitely has that, but the beauty of her soul. And she's going to marry _me._ It's overwhelming. It's a few seconds before I can answer her. "Oh, Sarah…I love you, too."

The woman in my arms kisses the tears from my face, and in the fading light of this summer evening, our lips meet again. It's perfect.

* * *

 _2258 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

It's much later now. Sarah and I have made love for the first time in our bed, in our house. She sits between my legs as we soak in our new tub, her back against my front. Her eyes are closed and her contented sighs tickle my chin as I run my soapy hands over her stomach.

Suddenly there's a little flutter against my hand. I press my palm more firmly into Sarah's abdomen, and there it is again, a small kick against me. It's my daughter, letting her daddy know she's here. This night has just become even more magical.

"Did you feel that?" Sarah whispers.

"Yeah…wow, Sarah…"

"I know. She's really there, Harm."

I continue to run my hands over Sarah's belly, hoping to feel my daughter kick again. A minute later, there it is…

And suddenly my vision tunnels. Bile rises up in my throat and I smell blood…death. Images, horrible images that I thought I had buried rise up to the surface and I feel like I can't breathe. I'm no longer sitting in lavender-scented water wrapped around my fiancée…

 _I've killed again…I can still hear, or is it feel, a neck snapping in my hands. It doesn't get easier to do this…or maybe it does and that's what makes this time so much worse…no, it isn't that, it's—_

" _Harm?"_

Sarah's voice brings me back to reality. The memories, painfully real memories, recede and I'm once again sitting amongst the fading bubbles of our bath. "Yeah?" My voice sounds strangled to my ears.

"Are you okay? What—" She leans forward to turn her face toward mine. My hands have slipped off her stomach and I wrap them around Sarah's shoulders to have something to do with them. I pull her back against me and then wrap my arms completely around her. I hope she can't feel the tremor of my hands or the pounding of my heart at her back.

"I—I'm fine, Sarah. It's…well, it's been a big day."

I don't think she believes me, but she lets it go for now. "It has, hasn't it, Harm? We should probably get rinsed off and into bed, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so…Sarah…"

"Yes, Harm?" She sounds a little tentative and I feel guilt wash over me.

"Sarah, I'm so…I mean, thank you. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. Thank you for having my baby, I—" I'm getting choked up again, a combination of my true, intense gratitude and this—this flashback. All I can do is pull her even more tightly against me.

"You're so welcome, Harm. And…it goes both ways, sweetheart. I love you." She turns her head up to kiss me and I take comfort from her touch.

We soon have ourselves out of the tub, dried off, and back in bed. I lie spooned against her as Sarah drifts off and in the dark of our room, visions of a mission gone wrong lap at the corners of my mind. I force them back and I pray it's just the intensity of this day and my fatigue that have caused them to come forward.

I hope, but I don't believe that. Not really.

 _Oh, Sarah…don't hate me. And God…please, please_ _help me._

 _End Chapter 5_


	6. Chains

_A/N: And so, we return to this story! This was kind of a difficult chapter to write, really, I suppose because I had to pick up after several weeks away from it. Hope it meets with your approval. Of note, I didn't really use direct quotes but some of the words/sentiments come from the soundtrack to the Gwyneth Paltrow/Ethan Hawke version of_ Great Expectations. _The song is "Breakable" by Fisher. It reminds me of Harm a bit after he gives up everything to go to Paraguay and kind of gets kicked in the teeth for it. Poor guy. He needs a hug. So does Mac in this one, for that matter._

 _Also, I know it seems like poor Mac is always sobbing and crying in this one…why is she so emotional? Well, the answer is she just gave birth. After my first baby, I was a mess. I cried. All. The. Time. As I held little Quinn, I'd look down at her and suddenly worry about when she would be older in school. Would people tease her? Would people hurt her? And then I'd sobbbbbb. I was all set to be a mess when I had her sister, Kate, but lo and behold, I maintained sanity. Maybe Mac can with her second as well—but that would be an entirely different story._

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 6: Chains**

 _September 23, 2004_

 _0123 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

I awaken to the quiet gentle voice of my wife. I feign sleep, content just to listen as she talks to our daughter. Lydia lets out a whimper just before I hear the now familiar sounds of her nursing, and Sarah's voice lowers to a whisper. "I love you, little girl." Lydia's answer is a little sigh before she resumes eating.

It makes my heart glad to hear them 'chatting' like this. I keep my eyes closed; I don't want to disturb the beauty of this moment.

"Harm, you're not fooling anyone. I know you're awake." She sounds amused as she nudges me with her elbow.

"Busted," I grin and push myself up in the bed. "I didn't want to disturb you two again."

"Not a chance, Flyboy. You feeling better?"

"I'm fine, Sarah. I promise."

She leans into me. "I know, hon. I just…I'm sorry, Harm. Don't listen me, I—"

She pauses and looks away. I give her several seconds to continue, but she remains silent as she starts slowly drawing away from me.

"Sarah, talk to me."

"Harm, no, it's stupid…"

Old habits die hard, and no matter how far we've come in the communications department, we still have our little hiccups.

"Sarah…if something's bothering you, it isn't stupid, and I want you to tell me about it. We get ourselves into trouble when we don't talk."

Sarah sighs as she burps Lydia and moves to re-swaddle her. "I know," she whispers, and yet she still doesn't say anything more.

I'm a little surprised to look over and see tears running silently down her cheeks. "Sarah, baby…" I don't know what else to do, so I put both arms around her. It's a bit awkward, given our position on the bed and the fact that she's cradling our baby, but it'll have to do. I don't know if this is all hormonal-both Bud and AJ warned me that women who have just given birth tend to be emotional—or if she is truly worried about something.

I let her cry for a while without pushing her again to talk, quietly being there for her. Sometimes it's still hard to figure out when I should be silent or when I should encourage conversation, so I guess I've settled on a little of both tonight.

When her tears subside to just a few hiccups, I take a chance that she'll talk now. "Sarah…I'm here. Nothing you say will upset me. Tell me how you feel."

She's at least relaxed against me but it's still several beats before she answers. "I'm scared."

"Why, honey?"

"I don't know."

"Okay."

"Just okay?"

She's a bit incredulous, and I suspect she's actually been thinking, ruminating really, about what's scaring her more than she's letting on, but I'll let it go for now. "Well, yeah. Sometimes we feel what we feel and that's just the way it is." Now she's looking at me like I've grown two heads. "I know, I know. Where did the real Harmon Rabb, Jr go?" I'm a little chagrined when she nods. But then she looks away and mumbles another apology.

At that moment her nurse comes back in and asks if we'd like her to take Lydia to the nursery again. She also asks Sarah how long Lydia nursed, her eyes widening when she gets an exact 'twenty-four minutes and thirteen seconds.'

"Well, uh…I'll just say twenty-five," the woman says. We share an amused glance and allow her to take Lydia with her, then settle back down on the bed. Finally, Sarah starts to actually talk.

"I think a lot of it is hormones…really, I'm so happy but I've been this close to tears since Lydia was born." She holds up her thumb and index finger spaced about a half inch apart. "I'm excited to be a mother…and then I worry I won't be a good mother. I'm thrilled to be your wife…and then I wonder if I'll be good wife. All that keeps running through my mind. I want…I mean, I think maybe it would be good to talk to Harriet about it since she's been through it all before. And then earlier tonight…Harm, you—you cried out in your sleep. You haven't done that since, well…just after you…"

"Lost my shit?"

" _Harm!_ Don't say it like that…but…yeah…and that time was…well, it was terrifying. I thought I was losing you."

 _Oh, Sarah._ "First off, I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to scare you…I didn't know I did that. Second, yes, the dream was disturbing. It always is. But I'm nowhere near the state I was back then. I still see the counselor at Langley. We still see the counselor together. We keep working through it. I'll do whatever I can to make you never feel that frightened again. You won't lose me."

I hear her sniffle in the darkness, so I roll up on my side and brush my thumb across her cheek. "I'm okay, Sarah." She nods against my hand.

"I know." She doesn't sound terribly convincing, and I sense there's something else, something that she's not really comfortable sharing. "Sarah?"

She tucks her face into my chest, making it hard for me to make out what she says next. "Say that again?"

A deep sigh shudders through her body. "Harm, you aren't superhuman."

 _Huh?_ I'm a little confused. Of course, I'm not superhuman…Superman complex aside…

"Harm, life has thrown you down so many times."

 _Well, I guess it has a few times but what of it?_ "Sarah, what do you mean?"

"You keep bouncing back…so when you…it's why we're so surprised to see…you're breakable."

 _Breakable? I don't understand…_

"I'm sorry, Harm…when you…when all that…happened…my heart broke for you…but, and please forgive me, Harm, I was more frightened than anything. I mean, you've made it through so many other things…and I think I…I think we all just expected you just keep doing that. I owe you such an apology, Harm. I wasn't expecting your reaction…I expected Superman. I'm sorry, Harm. I'm so, so sorry!"

Sarah looks devastated. I don't really know what to say, but I know she doesn't have to feel that way. "Sarah, honey…I don't…you shouldn't…oh, _Sarah."_

"Harm, you've always given off this aura of indestructability," she says, staring up at the ceiling.

I reach my arm over her and place it on her shoulder, pulling on it a little to encourage her to come into my arms.

Finally, after a moment of resistance, she turns up on her side to face me. I see her wince; she's obviously sore from the delivery, but my marine is stubborn when it comes to pain medication. The nurses have had to practically beg her to take even ibuprofen. "Sarah—"

She waves away my concern. "I'm fine, Harm." I give her a pointed look. Does she not remember I was here when she gave birth? That didn't look…I mean…it was…just…well, _ouch_. I'm feeling a little lightheaded and flushed again. _No,_ I didn't pass out during the delivery. I didn't have to sit down…but I think I felt a little like Sarah did the first time I took her up in a Tomcat.

"Fine, I'll ask for something when they bring Lydia back. Happy now?" I nod, the image of Lydia's birth still at the edges of my mind. She raises an eyebrow at me. "Are _you_ okay, Sailor?" I swallow and nod slowly. I must still look a little… _off,_ because she reaches over and cups my cheek, stroking it with her thumb. It's a tender moment…until she giggles. "Oh, Harm..." I'm a little embarrassed, but I have to smile at the lightening of her mood. It's short-lived, unfortunately; she sobers almost immediately.

"Harm…so much has happened to you…you lose your father as a little boy…you nearly die in a ramp strike, you probably shouldn't have walked again, and then you're reborn as a JAG lawyer. You even get your wings back. You've always, always been larger than life…

"You've gone through so much…I've put you through so much…because of me you ended up crashing in the ocean…during a storm, no less. You should have drowned or frozen to death. And then you get right back up and fly again. Any of that could have broken you, would have broken anyone, but it didn't. At least it didn't seem to…you pushed it all aside and still played the hero. You spent a month in the brig, alone, for something you didn't do, all because…because you wanted to protect your brother. And then you went right back to work…and nobody batted an eye. Of _course,_ the great Harmon Rabb would get right back in the saddle. Did anyone, anyone at all, ask you how you were…and actually stick around for the answer? Did you talk to someone?

"And then…then Paraguay happened. I-I treated you horribly. I didn't—I didn't even thank you. Instead I had the gall to tell you the Navy was all you had! I threw what you did for me in your face. It was because of me that you were in the CIA in the first place, and they, knowing full well what had happened on that mission…just let you go on without any acknowledgement of it. Clay knew…you had been his friend for years, you saved his life more than once…and all he could do was throw _me_ in your face. He knew you enough to know how you would blame yourself for all of it…how deeply it would affect you. And he did _nothing!_

"When you came back to JAG…it was all about how _I_ was doing. How _I_ was handling things. Our friends were angry with me for good reason, and that made _you_ feel guilty. I know you got counseling…but did I ever ask you how that was going? Sure, Super Harm had admitted he needed help, but everyone…the admiral…me, took it as a given that you would breeze through that too.

"And then once again everything was about me… _my_ therapy, _my_ PTSD, _my_ pregnancy. What about you? Sadik nearly killed you in that garage…I can still feel that bullet hit you, feel how scared you were…"

Sarah suddenly stops talking, her eyes wide, a shocked look on her face. I'm sure I'm wearing a similar look. She's barely taken a breath in the last couple of minutes, and now she's telling me what it was like when Sadik lured me to the garage that housed my 'vette. _I_ don't even know what it was like that garage. I have no memory of it. How could she know? I want to ask her about it, but she starts in again, her voice full of pain and sadness.

"You went through all of that…with no acknowledgement of how obviously horrifying and painful it all was…all of it…from the time you were a fatherless six-year-old until Sturgis found you nearly dead in your garage. No one really, _really_ made sure you were okay, not even me…and then, knowing all of this, knowing what you've been through…we're still shocked when you finally break!"

Sarah is crying softly now, and I move to put my arms around her. It's more out of habit because I'm not really thinking right now. This is a lot to process. Sarah feels horrible about this, I can tell; I don't want her to, but I'm blanking on any words of comfort. I do know one thing, though. As angry as I was with Sarah after Paraguay, as broken as I was after the CIA, it never entered my mind to expect everyone at JAG to worry about me, to drop everything to make sure I was whole…to let them know that something had indeed broken in me.

But then maybe that's the problem…I've lived almost my entire life trying to protect those I care about…my mother when I was only a child, Sarah really since the moment I met her, and many, many others. I didn't have to focus on me; there was no time for that. It's also true that as much as Sarah and everyone else failed to recognize my pain, I failed even more. I've failed at it for years. I'm not saying that to be hard on myself…it's just the way I've always been.

Sarah pushing my arm aside brings me out of my stupor. She doesn't let me hold her; she just shakes her head, pulling herself away from me, crying even harder. "No, Harm. Please…you shouldn't have to comfort me now. I don't deserve it…I…"

My arms go around her anyway. "Sarah, Sarah…it's okay. It's okay." How can I convince her that she has nothing to apologize for? That she doesn't need to carry this guilt along with everything else? That over the years I got too good at patching the cracks in my armor, that even if asked during any of the bad times in my life, I would have done everything to convince them I was fine?

Sarah fights me again for just a moment before she at last lets me pull her in. Once her tears subside and she quiets, I make her look at me. "Sarah, I think this is something you and I should discuss in therapy. You need to convince yourself that you don't need to feel guilty, and I need to feel like I deserve to break once in a while. I don't expect you to know when I need more when I don't even know it myself. I had convinced myself I _was_ doing fine, each and every one of those times. Okay?"

There's no response from her for long moments, but finally, she nods. "Okay."

"Now, I think you should sleep…we've only got—"

"One hour thirty-eight minutes."

"One hour thirty-eight minutes and twenty-two seconds until our daughter is going to want her mommy again."

"True enough." She snuggles in. "And, Harm?"

"Yes, dear?"

"It was seventeen seconds."

 _Of course._ "Go to sleep, Ninja Girl."

She chuckles. "Aye aye, Flyboy."

It's silent for a moment and I'm sure Sarah is almost out when I remember a certain part of our conversation. "Sarah?"

"Mmhmm?"

"How do you know what happened in my garage? With Sadik?"

I almost expect her not to answer, but then she murmurs, "Oh…I was there." A few moments pass and then it's obvious she's asleep, and I'm just as confused as I was before.

Strange…but then again, maybe not. She does have certain…gifts. I'd like to say she's just constructing the scenario from what Sturgis has told her, but maybe…oh, my poor Sarah. I'm suddenly convinced she did see it…all of it. I don't know why, but I am. _Oh, Sarah…_

I lay in the darkness, unable to close my eyes. I think about what Sarah said, about the events of my life, and how what I told Sarah was true. We _do_ need to talk about it in therapy. That idea doesn't cause as much apprehension as it would have a couple of months ago; I know we'll get through it. We got through my breakdown, after all…and that was pretty traumatic.

I can finally think about that time and the events precipitating it without panicking, but it surely isn't easy. To think for a few weeks, it was _all_ I could think about. Thank God that time is over, but now, with my nightmare still lapping at the edges of my mind and my talk with Sarah, those thoughts won't rest. The voice of my therapist at Langley whispers in my ear:

"Don't fight the memories, Harm. Let them out."

And so, I do…

* * *

 _July 11, 2004_

 _0501 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

It's early morning, and Sarah is snuggled into my side. She's still sleeping, but I've been awake for a couple of hours now, unable to let go of what happened last night. How could my elation over feeling our baby kick for the first time turn into something horrible so quickly? That mission…I thought I'd dealt with my feelings about it months ago. I'd talked to my therapist… _but…_

But I hadn't, not really. All of it was classified so I could only speak of it in the vaguest of generalities, and though Mike did his best, he couldn't truly counsel me on something I'd essentially told him nothing about.

I lie there another twenty minutes, thinking I should just get up and go for a run. At this time of day, the oppressive July heat won't have overtaken the city yet. I start to ease away from Sarah but, half asleep, she reaches for me. Her hand finds mine and she draws my arm over her, resting our hands on her pregnant stomach. I fight the urge to pull away from her; I don't want to wake her completely, but then as soon my hand is resting against the roundness of her belly, I know I should have risked it. Almost as soon as I make contact, I feel the soft fluttering of my daughter's kicks.

And all I can feel is something… _someone_ else. _Oh, god…_

I jerk away, rolling out of bed and ignoring Sarah's call to me. She still sounds sleepy, and I fervently hope that she falls back asleep before I'm done in the bathroom. I use the facilities, quickly throw on my running gear, and slip out of there without looking back. If Sarah calls to me again, I don't hear it. I make sure I don't hear it.

* * *

 _0542 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Sarah is waiting for me when I return to the house. I only ran five miles; I didn't bother to stretch first, and my forty-year-old body just doesn't tolerate that very well anymore. Sarah sits in the kitchen, perched on a stool by the island, clad only in a satiny robe. She's barefoot, and there's something about a barefoot Sarah that always turns me on. She's such a beautiful woman and sometimes I wonder if she even realizes it. I just watch her for a moment, almost choking up at the sight of her.

"You weren't gone very long." I jump at the sound of her voice, startled out of my reverie.

"Um, no, I—I got a cramp…only went five miles." She swivels around on the stool, looking me up and down, her gaze guarded.

"Are you okay, Harm?"

"Yeah. I just didn't stretch enough."

"That's not—I mean…okay." She stands up from the stool, pulling her robe more tightly around her, and takes her cup over to the sink. She pours out the remaining liquid; it must have been tea, and it looks like she only had a few sips. "I'm going to go shower." She walks past me and I start to reach out toward her, but her subtle move to the side stops me. Clearly, she's upset, likely about my abrupt departure this morning. I sink onto the stool she just vacated and run my hand over my face. I'm sweaty and in any other circumstance I'd join her in the shower, but I doubt that would be welcomed at the moment. I debate just waiting here for her, but decide that I'd better face her sooner rather than later.

The problem is, I don't really know what to say after 'I'm sorry.' I can't tell her what happened last night, and I can't tell her why I ran this morning.

 _Yes, you can,_ a little voice inside tells me…and I almost run up the stairs to do just that.

But I don't.

And if I had then, maybe, later, things wouldn't have gotten so, so bad.

* * *

 _1149 Local_

 _Harm & Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

It has been, shall we say, a quiet morning. Sarah has spent it in the guest room, setting up the bed from her apartment…and, I guess, doing other things in there. I have kept to the den/office area, connecting our bookshelves to the wall to keep them from tipping forward, then arranging our books on them in alphabetical order. I had asked her earlier if she had a preference as to where the shelves were set or how our books were placed, but she only shook her head and went back to putting sheets on the guest bed.

So, I went back to the den and finished putting up the shelves, then went about arranging our books together in alphabetical order by author…just like she had done at her apartment.

I put the last book up on the shelf and look at the clock. It's nearing lunch time, so I decide to head to the kitchen get started on it. To my surprise, Sarah's already there, putting together a salad and some sandwiches. I come up behind her and chance putting an arm around her shoulder. I am relieved when she leans into me. Encouraged, I place a kiss on the crown of her head. "What's for lunch, honey?"

"Chicken salad sandwiches with a side salad. Hope that's okay."

"Perfect. Listen…about this morning…"

"No, Harm…I'm sorry…my attitude...I was being…childish…"

I tighten my arm around her. "No, no Sarah…I…well, why don't we just forget about it…let's eat, and then maybe we should go furniture shopping…maybe pick out something for the living room?"

She looks relieved and I feel a twinge of guilt. "That would be great, Harm."

As we sit down at the table to eat, I am struck by the thought of something Sarah told me a while ago. She had been dragged to a gathering for Mic's new firm when he first returned to the States. She hadn't wanted to go; she didn't know anyone else there and Sarah is actually rather shy when it comes to things like that. She'd been standing alone and overheard Mic and his boss talking about her like she was just an object. She noticed others staring at her too and she felt terribly uncomfortable. She let Mic know that she was upset about that, and he'd just ordered her into the car without any sort of acknowledgement of her feelings. And then the kicker…she'd actually gone over to his place that night and apologized for being childish, and he'd agreed with her. The bastard. I think I'd let him have it if I ever saw him again…about many things. I have this sense that Bugme could have been, well, abusive.

I take a bite of my sandwich…Sarah is actually quite a good cook, though she tells me most of the time she loathes it, and as I swallow that first excellent bite, I remember our brief conversation at the kitchen counter. She'd apologized…for being childish…and just like Bugme, I let her. My twinge of guilt (it was really always more than just a twinge) grows and I open my mouth to apologize.

But then I close it. Because I still don't know what to say. I don't know how to tell her that the mere sensation of my daughter kicking and moving takes me back to a dark, dark place.

I keep eating, even though everything now tastes like sawdust in my guilty, dishonest mouth.

* * *

 _July 19_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1210 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

I'm exhausted. For the last two nights I've barely slept. I've stared at the ceiling instead, listening to Sarah's soft breathing beside me, while trying to force myself to reach over and rest my hand on her expanding belly. I've been avoiding it as much as possible in the last week and I can tell Sarah is confused. Oh, we've touched, made love, but I have yet to touch her for the express purpose of feeling my daughter's presence. I am devastated by this. Ever since Sarah told me about the first flutters she felt inside, I have wanted nothing more to experience that myself, and now…

Thoughts of one of my last missions with the CIA have become more and more intrusive. I know I have become more withdrawn, and I know Sarah senses something; I constantly feel her concerned gaze on me. I can see her start to say something to me about it, only to look away or start talking about something inconsequential.

This morning I finally managed to lay my hand on the swell of Sarah's abdomen. There's a soft quiver of movement, followed by a solid kick. The feeling is at once precious and…and _oh god oh god oh god what have I done…._

I bury my face in my hands at the memory of it. I'm thankful my door is closed, the blinds drawn so no one can see me in my misery. Sarah is in court this morning, facing off against Bud, and I am left to prepare a case that is going to trial next week. I'll admit that I haven't accomplished much in the time I've been here; I've been too busy thinking about this morning and how I nearly lost it in bed.

Almost as soon as I touched Sarah, the flashbacks started. I bolted out of bed and the next thing I knew I was retching into the toilet, praying to god that Sarah wouldn't wake up. For once I was lucky. After rinsing my mouth, I cracked open the bathroom door and peaked out, relieved to find Sarah was still very much asleep.

After that, I quickly showered, left Sarah a note that I was heading into work early to work on case reports before staff call and left.

There's a knock at the door then and I pull myself together, wiping a hand over my face before calling 'enter.'

It's my lovely fiancée. She looks tentative. I feel like an absolute ass. _Dammit, just tell her what's going on with you,_ my inner voice admonishes me once more, and once again, I ignore it. "Hey, Sarah. How was court?" This will be her last case before she transfers to the judiciary and I flash her what I hope is my normal flyboy grin. She smiles back, although somehow the smile doesn't seem to reach her eyes. Or maybe I'm just imagining it, my guilt clouding my perceptions.

"Well, I think I'm going to win this one, finally. You know, I really think we trained Bud too well; he's been on a roll of late."

I snort. There's no doubt in my mind that we trained Bud too well. He can be absolutely cutthroat, albeit in the kind, gentle manner that is synonymous with Bud Roberts, Jr. "Well, I'm glad you're coming out on top this time…last week he pretty much destroyed me in the Donovan court martial. Not that my client had much of a chance…"

She steps further into my office. "We recessed for lunch; you have time for a quick bite?" she asks. I agree quickly and she looks relieved. And I feel awful.

Once we have our food, we head out to the patio and find a table. Surprisingly she's chosen a salad, and I can't resist ribbing her a bit about it.

She smirks at me. "I'm trying to be healthy for your daughter, Harm."

I raise an eyebrow at her. She rolls her eyes. "Okay, okay…the truth is, I've just been craving salads, vegetables…that sort of stuff. I'm kinda worried she has your brains…or your eating habits."

"What's wrong with my eating habits?"

"Harm, the same thing that's been wrong with them for the last eight years. They're so…"

"So…."

"Boring!" she finishes.

" _Boring?_ Watch it, Marine, or I'll show you just how boring it can get!"

She waves her hand in dismissal. "As long as it isn't 'Harm's Meatless Meatloaf', I don't care what you cook as long as you're the one doing the cooking."

We eat in companionable silence for a few minutes before Sarah suddenly gasps, pressing her hand against her side. I'm instantly in protective mode. "Sarah, what happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby? Do we need to—"

She giggles then, a sound I am not expecting. "No, no, Harm…it's okay. It's just that our little girl is being really active at the moment, and I think she caught me under a rib." Sarah jumps a little. "There she goes again. Harm, you should feel this." She reaches for my hand…but I move too quickly, grabbing my fork and spearing another bite of my own salad and shoving it my mouth. If we were at home, maybe I would have risked it, but I certainly can't lose it out here in the courtyard of JAG. I glance over at her and she's frowning at me.

"What?" I ask, knowing full well what has her looking at me that way. I half wish she would just ask what the hell is going on, why I'm acting this way…but the moment passes quickly and her expression goes back to neutral. She shakes her head.

"Nothing…I'd better get back inside. Court starts in…um, fifteen minutes. I want to freshen up a little before…well, I'll see you tonight, okay?" She stands up, grabbing the remnants of her lunch, which is, to my chagrin, less than half-eaten. She turns to walk away, but I call to her and she turns back.

"Kick his six, Colonel MacKenzie!" She grins at that at least and then heads into the building, while I just sit there, thinking I need to get my head out of mine.

* * *

 _August 3_ _rd_ _, 2004_

 _0100 Local_

 _Harm and Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

I can't sleep. I have been lying here for the last two hours, watching the numbers change on the clock, listening to Sarah's regular breathing. At least she's been sleeping well; she certainly needs it. She has more regular hours as a judge, but it isn't hard to tell that her pregnancy still takes a lot out of her. I can see the fatigue in her eyes when she comes up to my office after she's done for the day and in the evenings, it doesn't take much for her to fall asleep as soon as she snuggles up to me on the couch. During those quiet times, it's all I can do not to bury my face in her shoulder and tell her what I'm going through.

For the last three weeks, every time I close my eyes, I see… _her._ Those cold, lifeless eyes staring back at me, the layers of her clothing covering… _oh my god…_

Whenever I sleep, the nightmares come. I've had them before, she knows that, and we've helped each other through our respective terrors. Once she returned from La Jolla, my dreams had begun to be few and far between, but now they are back with a vengeance. Incredibly, I haven't awakened Sarah with my thrashing, at least I don't think I have, so I've been able to keep this from her.

I suppose one would ask why I want to hide all of this from Sarah. It's not because I don't want her to see weakness in me; after the year we've had, we've certainly had ample opportunity to bare our souls to each other. And it isn't because I don't trust her either. I trust her implicitly.

It's because I don't want to see the guilt in her eyes. The guilt that's there every time the subject of Sadik comes up. The guilt that shows itself whenever I mention the CIA or Webb. She still feels guilty about going to Paraguay despite my protests, about bringing Sadik into our lives, being with Webb…her list of supposed transgressions is long and complete.

She knows that something horrible happened to me when I worked for the CIA, though I've never been able to tell her exactly what. She's held me after many a nightmare, and in between the words of comfort there are always words of apology. You see, she believes herself solely responsible for my working for the CIA. If she hadn't gone to Paraguay, I wouldn't have thrown away my career to rescue her, and I wouldn't have been left without a job upon our return.

She doesn't listen to me when I tell her that the decision to resign was mine and mine alone; some things are worth more to me than a job and I will never regret going down there to save her. Even if she and Webb had ridden off into the sunset together, I still wouldn't regret saving her life. One day I hope to convince her otherwise, but thus far she still believes the horrors I experienced are all her fault.

I don't want her to feel responsible for this too.

I don't want her to feel guilty that I'm falling apart inside.

I don't want her to know that the nightmares don't just occur at night. They come during the day in the form of flashbacks that terrorize me to the point that I've fled to my office more than once just to cry. It's been so hard to keep it together when I see her beautiful, pregnant form but I force myself to at work. I'm so relieved that her office is now downstairs near the courtrooms; if she were still in the office close to mine, I don't think I'd be able to maintain control.

If I told her all of this, she would blame herself. I know it, and I can't do that to her. I need to deal with this on my own.

Sarah shifts in the bed next to me. With a painful twinge, I notice she has shifted even further away from me. Now that I think about it, she hasn't really cuddled close to me in…well, a while. She used to lie spooned against me, and I took comfort in that, even if I couldn't bring myself to draw her in closer like I used to.

Like I used to…

It hits me then. We haven't made love in almost two weeks. My god, we'd just gotten that back and now…and she'd felt so guilty when she couldn't…

I throw my arm over my eyes and I'm pissed off to realize there are tears leaking out from underneath it. I need help. I know this. But I don't know where to get it.

 _Tell her._

 _I want to._

 _I can't._

Frustrated, heartbroken, I roll myself out of bed. There's no point in staying here tossing and turning and I don't want to wake Sarah. At least that's what I tell myself. I decide to use the bathroom down the hall instead of the one off our room for that same reason.

As I turn the knob of our door, I swear I hear a sniffle behind me. I must have been mistaken, though. When I look back at Sarah, I see her still lying there peacefully, her breath even. I turn back and pull open the door, leaving Sarah behind.

* * *

 _0305 Local_

 _Harm and Mac's House_

 _Falls Church, VA_

I work on some casefiles for a couple of hours until my fatigue causes the words to blur before me. I consider going back to bed but it's doubtful I'll actually relax enough to sleep. I decide to head out to my shop and work on the cradle I've been making for when our baby first arrives, figuring the more physical activity will keep me awake while still keeping my mind occupied.

I slip my feet out from under our recently acquired mutt, Maggie, patting her on the head as we both stand. "Watch out for Sarah, okay?" I whisper to her and the dog wags her tail like she understands what I'm saying. She heads up the stairs once we leave the den and I know that later she'll be found lying right outside our bedroom door.

Once in the shop, I get right to work. I find the construction of this tiny piece of furniture is soothing and for a while my mind is at rest. Later, as the sun starts to rise, I glance out the window. There's a little black cat roaming about the yard, one I've seen around, and I wonder if it is a stray or if its owners just let it prowl around at night. Like it could tell it was being watched, the cat looks up and locks eyes with me. We stare at each other, although logic dictates that the cat can't even see me standing here. It suddenly pounces on some unseen creature, and the moment is broken.

Once the clock on the wall chimes 0600, I clean up my mess and head back inside. The first thing I notice is a note from Sarah on the counter next to the coffee maker. She's already left for work. I'm surprised because I never heard her car driving away.

For some reason I feel a twinge of foreboding, and it has nothing to do with flashbacks of a mission gone horribly wrong.

* * *

August 9th, 2004

 _1111 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

There's a knock on my door. "Enter," I call, and I'm surprised when I look up to see General Cresswell in my doorway. I start to stand for the new JAG, but he is quick to motion me back down. He eyes me for a moment, and I inwardly squirm until I finally ask him if I can do anything for him.

"No, Commander," he answers. "I was just wondering if you would come by my office around 1400. There's a few things I want to discuss with you."

"Yes, sir. Might I ask what this is in regard to?" For some reason I don't think this will be something pleasant.

"Nothing to worry about," the general lies, at least I think he does, and he merely tells me he'll fill me in when I get there. He turns and leaves, and I heave a sigh.

Things aren't going all that well, here at work, or at home. The work issues are likely due to my level of distraction, and the home issues…

What can I say about those…?

We have a new cat, the black cat I'd been seeing around the place. I've named her Nimitz and while she follows me everywhere, she seems to hate Sarah. Not such a big deal, really; the cat basically ignores Sarah and anyway, Sarah has Maggie. While Maggie seems to like me, it's obvious who her favorite is. Maggie would like Nimitz too, I'm sure, but the cat makes sure that the dog never gets near her. At any rate, while the cat represents a little more work for us, it really isn't an issue.

Except that we fought about her this morning. For no reason. Or maybe there was a reason. Sarah was definitely not amused by the dead mouse left by our bedroom door, but that still doesn't explain why we ended up arguing about the litter box. The litter box she can't clean while pregnant. The litter box that I was supposed to clean two days ago but got put off while I was away on assignment. I was actually going to go clean it when the fight started…

* * *

 _Earlier that morning…_

" _How was your run?" Sarah's voice startles me as I walk by the kitchen doorway. I stop and poke my head in, noting that she's already dressed in her uniform._

" _Um, it was good. I think I'm going to—"_

" _Clean the litter box, maybe?"_

" _What?" I question her tone more than her words._

" _Don't you think it's time you cleaned it?"_

" _I was just going to—"_

" _Harm, I know my hours are more stable now, so I can take on more of the duties at home, but there are things I can't do. Namely the litter box. So, if you were expecting me to take care of that too, you need to think again. I will NOT jeopardize the health of our baby and I refuse to live in a home that reeks of cat urine, so if it isn't TOO much trouble, could you please take care of it?"_

" _Sarah, what the hell are you talking about? You know I don't expect you to clean the litter box; I—"_

" _Well, I've had to take care of everything else: the cleaning, the cooking…you haven't been home before eight for the last week…I'm tired, Harm. I'd like a break once in a while. I'd like to come home and just sit for once. Is that too much to ask?"_

 _I sit there, stunned. Clearly, she's pissed, and I'd had no idea…_

 _Well, that's not entirely true. I've come home around eight as she said, heat up whatever she's made…wait a minute—she hasn't cooked anything for days…at least not for me. I've been eating…well, last night I had a Pop-Tart…and noticed that the supply had gone down quite a bit…holy shit, she's been eating Pop-Tarts for supper. I'm suddenly livid._

" _Maybe you wouldn't be so goddamned tired if you ate more than a goddamned Pop-Tart at night! Christ, Mac. Don't you care? It's like you don't even remember you're carrying my baby!"_

 _I'm practically in her face now and I dimly note that she's shrinking away from me. She's also pale and in tears._ Oh god…what have I done? "Our _baby," she whispers._

" _What?"_

" _She's_ our _baby and I'm not the one who's forgotten about her!" She whirls around then and starts to stomp off. I reach out and graze her shoulder._

" _Mac, wait."_

 _She stops and I'm relieved. But then…_

" _You called me Mac."_

 _I have a sinking feeling. "Um, that's your name…"_

" _You don't call me Mac."_

" _Yes, I do. All the time. What are you talking about?"_

" _At work you call me Mac. At home you—" Suddenly she stiffens. "Never mind, Harm. I need to get to the…I need to get to work."_

 _With that she walks away, grabbing her cover off the counter closest to the back door and settling it on her head. She takes her briefcase from the same counter and goes out the door without a backward glance. A minute later I hear her car tear down the driveway and I slump against the counter. I rub a hand over my face and decide I'd better clean the litter box and get to work as well._

 _It's true that I've been working late. And going in early. I have to. With all the flashbacks and focus issues I've been having, to get any work done at all I have to keep that schedule._

 _Fuck. I need help. But where? The little voice inside my brain reminds me of when I pushed Sarah to get therapy. God, I'm such a hypocrite._

* * *

 _1355 Local_

 _JAG Headquarters_

 _Falls Church, VA_

Before I know it, it's time to go meet with the general. Like a lamb going to the slaughter, I slowly walk across the bullpen to General Cresswell's office.

He's a different CO than AJ was. He seems more by the book, less social with his staff. Of course, it took years for AJ and the rest of us to become the family we are now, so I suppose it'll be the same for him. Except for one thing: General Cresswell already has his own family. He has a warm and lovely wife, at least she seemed so; I've only met her once at the reception after her husband was sworn in as the new JAG. He has children, two girls and a boy, and his oldest, Cammie, is starting at the Academy this year.

General Cresswell tells me to have a seat after I do the standard stand at attention and tell him I'm reporting as ordered. He stares at me intently, and though he seems every inch the squared away marine, his gaze seems gentler than my former CO's. Of course, General Cresswell doesn't know yet what a screw up I can be.

"Commander, I'm concerned. Your focus…seems off."

 _Okay, so I guess he does know I'm a screw up._

The general continues. "I've spoken to Admiral Chegwidden and, though he didn't give me any details, he did state that you and Colonel MacKenzie have had a difficult year."

He looks at me expectantly, and I clear my throat. "Uh, yeah…you could say that."

"Is everything okay? I'm obviously aware that you two are expecting a baby in a couple of months; congratulations, of course, but are there any issues relating to that? I ran into Admiral Morris this morning and he mentioned that the Article 32 hearing that Commanders Roberts and Turner are involved in had to be postponed."

 _And that has something to do with me because…?_

"I hope everything is okay with the pregnancy and that Colonel MacKenzie feels better soon."

 _What?_ "Um, what, sir?"

"Admiral Morris told me the colonel was unable to return after her appointment today due to illness."

I can feel the blood draining from my face. I had no idea Sarah was sick. I had no idea she had an appointment. Come to think of it, aren't we supposed to have appointments every two weeks now? It's been at least a month since the last one.

I pull out my Palm Pilot and check the calendar. Sure enough, she had an appointment at 0745 today. A quick look back shows that exactly two weeks ago she had another appointment, this one with a note beside it that says 'glucose ck'. Right…the appointment where she was supposed to drink some god-awful sweet stuff so they could make sure she didn't have, what was it, gestational diabetes. She was also going to get another ultrasound that day…

A sense of dread settles over me.

I look up and the general is eyeing me again. "I take it you weren't aware of…."

"No, sir." I shake my head. "Sir, I need to—"

"Of course, Commander. Go home. We'll talk about this more tomorrow, but please, don't worry about it. Focus on your wife, er, fiancée and baby, and please let me know if my wife and I can help in any way. Dismissed."

I stand quickly at attention, toss off a quick 'aye aye, sir,' and rush out of there. Somehow, though he may not have heard it from his predecessor, I think he knows more of what happened this past year than he's letting on.

I race home, noting as I enter that it is eerily quiet. Sarah must be here; her 'vette was parked in the garage when I pulled in.

I bound up the stairs, nearly tripping over Nimitz as she winds herself about my legs when I reach our bedroom door. I push it open, terrified of what I might find.

The bedclothes are rumpled, indicating someone has lain there since I made the bed this morning. That isn't surprising, given she has apparently been ill. I step further into the room, and it's at that moment I see the open suitcase on the bed. _Oh, please, don't let her—_ I hear a muffled curse from the walk-in closet and I call her name.

She steps out and there are obvious tear stains on her face. "Oh, so it's Sarah again." She sets the clothing in her arms into the suitcase.

I gape at her. "Sarah, what are you doing?"

"Leaving," she says with finality, then goes back into the closet. I follow her in.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm not sure."

"Then don't go."

She's crying again and I move to brush the tears aside. She snaps her head back. "Don't." I drop my arm to my side.

"Sarah, why are you doing this?" She's brushed past me and gone back into our room, but then turns back around. Her lips have turned up into a sardonic little smile.

"I think you know why." She throws the words I once said to her back at me and I stand there, stunned.

"No, Sarah. I-I don't."

She lets out a short bark of laughter then says something I am completely unprepared to hear. "Who is she?"

"What?"

"Who is she?" She turns and tosses the items in her arms on the bed next to her suitcase then whirls back around. "Tell me, Harm! Who _is she?!_ Someone you met while I was still with your parents? Were you fucking her on the side when I couldn't—couldn't…who is she, Harm?"

"Sarah, honey…there's no one else! I love you! Only you." _Oh my god…she thinks that I…that I…_

"You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe that all the early mornings and late nights are for work? I'm not stupid, Harm. You haven't touched me in weeks. You shrink back in disgust whenever I try to get you to feel the baby. What am I supposed to think?"

I gulp a few times and reach forward and grip her shoulders. "That I love you! That I love our baby. That I want to spend the rest of my life with you. That I want to have a lot more babies with you."

She reaches up and wraps her hands around my wrists. "Harm, you haven't told me you love me in days. You don't hold me in bed. Our daughter…she's moving all the time now. You once told me you couldn't wait to feel that. And now…" She winces a little then and presses her palm to her belly.

"Sarah, baby, what is it?"

She rubs her hand over her abdomen as if she's trying to soothe our baby from the outside. "Nothing. She's just really active, and that seems to cause some contractions." She glares at me. "So does stress."

"Sarah…"

She winces again and her hand goes back over her womb. "She's doing gymnastics in there." At that moment she reaches for my hand. "Here." She presses it to her belly and I feel a rapid succession of kicks. Her stomach becomes more firm, hard even, and I'm concerned. Worried. Should she even be having contractions yet? The answer is another strong kick.

And then it happens. Those horrific visions that haunt me day and night, that don't let me sleep, that keep me away from the woman and child I love more than life, take over and I rip my hand from underneath hers. _"No!"_ I shout, and the force of me drawing away from her must knock her off balance. She falls into the bed, a look of shock and horror marring her beautiful features. It's enough to bring me back to the present.

"Oh god, Sarah! I'm sor—" I reach for her as I apologize but she scoots away from me, shimmying up the bed as fast as she can. And I can tell she's afraid. Of me.

I need to get away. I can't do this to her anymore. I'm aware that I'm sobbing as I back out of the room, begging her to forgive me, telling her I'm sorry. The look of fear never leaves her face.

I rush down the stairs, grab the keys to the Lexus, and before I know it, I'm driving away from our house. From Sarah.

I see my cellphone lying on the console beside me and I pick it up to dial a familiar number. He finally answers on the fourth ring.

"Chegwidden."

It's hard to talk around the lump in my throat, but I finally manage. "AJ?"

"Yes…Harm, is that you? Son, what's wrong?"

"I need—I need you to go to—uh—"

"Son, just take a breath. Tell me what's happened."

I do as he says. "Sir, can you come to the house? Sarah needs—Sarah needs…can you go to her?"

I hear him moving around and the jingle of his keys. Thank god. He's already on his way.

"Harm, is Mac okay? The baby? Where are you?" he asks, even as I hear him climb into his SUV and start it up.

"They—they're fine. She just needs you. Please?"

"I'm on my way, son, but what about y—"

I hang up on him now that I'm sure someone will be there for Sarah soon. I don't really know where I'm going, but twenty minutes into my drive, I realize I'm turning into the neighborhood of the one person I know who _might_ be able to help me. I park the Lexus and enter his building behind a disapproving older woman. She's probably going to call the cops as soon as she gets inside her apartment, but I'll either be with him or long gone.

Seconds later I'm knocking at his door, thinking that the chances of him being home at this time of day are pretty bleak. I'm about to knock one last time when the door finally opens. He stares at me, looking me up and down, I suppose noting my desperate appearance. I chance a smile and I'm sure it's ghastly if the expression on his face is any indication. I forge ahead anyway.

"Hey…Clay."

 _End Chapter 6_


	7. Help

_A/N: Chapter 7! Another hard one to write, even though it's a bit shorter than the others. I think it was hard just do to time constraints, so I apologize if it is a little disjointed. I feel a little disjointed! I'm posting this without much editing (you know, post and ask questions later), so if it is more messed up than a hound's breakfast (an expression my nurse at my previous job used to say), I apologize for that too!_

 **Conquering Never**

 **Chapter 7: Help**

 _September 23_ _rd_ _, 2004_

 _0254 Local_

 _Bethesda Naval Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

Sarah sighs in her sleep and snuggles closer to me. I tighten my hold on her, and, though not awake, her lips turn up into a smile. I smile back, glad that her dreams must be happy ones.

She's so heartbreakingly beautiful, I think as I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest. I love that we can be close like this again, her pregnant belly no longer in the way. I have to say, though, I'm going to miss it too. There is something special about feeling your baby's feet through her mother's stomach, or the feel of her stretching inside the womb. I'll never say it out loud, but I'm rather jealous that Sarah got to feel all of this happening inside her.

Sarah sighs again and my eyes go to the clock. They'll be bringing Lydia back in about forty minutes, and of course I will insist that Sarah take some Ibuprofen. I should probably sleep until then, but my mind won't shut down as it drifts back to that horrible day last month.

Wow. Last month. Saying it that way makes it seem like it just happened, but it feels like it was another lifetime. Things have changed so much in the last six and a half weeks. Thank God. I don't want to ever live through something like that again, and I never want to put Sarah through it either. It's a method of self-torture, I suppose, but I often imagine what it was like for Sarah after I left that day.

When AJ arrived at the house, he found the back door unlocked. He would have knocked first, but after the call he received from me minutes earlier, he wanted to get to Sarah ASAP. He would have broken down the door if he'd had to.

AJ found Sarah still in the bedroom, still huddled on the bed. Who knows what went through his mind when he saw her; I do suspect, though, that his first thought was to murder me. He finally got Sarah to tell him what had happened; she had been so convinced that I was seeing another woman _(never!)_ but she told him that the way I reacted and the look of horror in my eyes as I touched her belly seemed off for something as 'simple' as that. She was actually _worried._ About _me._

She was also having contractions. More than she wanted to admit to AJ, but he noticed she was uncomfortable and insisted she let him take her to the hospital. Under normal circumstances it would have been a no-brainer for her to be checked out, but the whole situation was more fucked up than a hound's breakfast, as Sarah's uncle would say.

Meanwhile, I found myself at the door of Clayton Webb, the only man I've ever come close to hating. The anger had largely abated at that point, but I can't say I actually liked the guy. At that moment, though, he was my lifeline.

Wow. Webb. My lifeline…I let my mind wander back to that time again, when I stood at the door, ready to beg for help…

* * *

 _August 9_ _th_ _, 2004_

 _1543 Local_

 _Webb's Apartment_

 _Alexandria, VA_

Webb bumps my shoulder with the back of his hand. "Here," he says and it's then that I notice he's offering me the glass of amber liquid that he holds.

"What is it?" I ask, briefly raising my eyes to his.

"Apple juice, Rabb, what do you think it is?" I look back up at him, not saying anything. I'm not trying to be rude; frankly it's hard to have a coherent thought at the moment. He rolls his eyes. "It's bourbon, Harm. The good stuff, not that cheap shit you drink."

I take the glass and snort. "My stepfather's rich, Webb. I don't drink the cheap shit either." I take a sip. He's right, though…this is the good stuff and it goes down easily. Too easily. I set it down on the table in front of me, then rest my arms on my lap, hanging my head. _What am I doing here?_

"What are you doing here?" Webb asks, echoing my thoughts.

"I don't know." I stare into the alcohol in front of me and it's so tempting to down it all in one shot. But, out of respect for Sarah and everything she went through with her alcoholism, I refuse to even flirt with that path. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Webb sit in the plush leather chair across from me and I slowly raise my eyes to his. We are in a staring contest for several seconds until I finally look away, reaching for one last gulp of bourbon to give me the strength to say what I need to. I set the glass down and slide it farther away from me.

"Harm?" Webb actually sounds concerned. The last time we spoke, prior to the night Sarah killed Sadik, he was in the middle of firing me. He sounded anything but sympathetic then. He was smug, telling me he'd tell Sarah 'Hi' from me, and I could picture myself snapping his little neck. I was not in a good place then…and here I am, asking for help from a man that I once imagined killing.

I sigh, scrubbing my hands over my face before finally speaking.

"How do you do it?" My voice comes out in a harsh whisper.

"Do what?" He asks calmly.

"Do what you do…do what I've _done_ …and still be able to live with yourself?" I feel my eyes fill and it takes all my strength to keep the tears at bay. I will _not_ cry in front of Webb.

"Harm, what happened that day wasn't your fault…" Clay starts in, but I interrupt him.

"Wasn't it? I'm the one who was…I'm the one who…I k-killed her…I s-snapped her neck. I killed— "

"To keep her from killing many more. Harm, you did what you had to do."

"I had to do _that?_ There had to be another way…"

"Harm, if you had hesitated…Ambassador **** would be dead."

He's right, I know that…but…was the ambassador worth…I bury my face in my hands.

"Harm…you couldn't have known about…"

Suddenly I stand and start to pace, trying to work off a surge of nervous energy. I can feel Webb's eyes following me, but he doesn't say anything. Eventually I stop at a window, looking out over the city. At night I'm sure the city lights give off an alluring glow, but here in the hot August afternoon, the city looks frantic and dirty.

 _Frantic and dirty…like me._

I whip around. "I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry I interrupted…whatever…" I start toward the door. Clay stops me halfway.

"Harm, wait. Obviously, you came here for a reason; it's not like we've been on good terms of late, and since you don't seem to have come here with violent intent…" He gets up from his chair and steps in front of me. "What happened today?"

I'm at war with myself. I resent the fact that Clayton Webb might be my savior. I'm embarrassed that I'm reacting this way over something that happened months ago, something I thought I'd put to rest. But I have to tell someone. Finally, I slump in defeat. Silently, I return to my seat on the couch, trying to ignore the tumbler full of bourbon that sits a couple of feet away as Webb sits down again as well.

"Mac is leaving me." God, I sound pathetic. And telling this to a man who has wooed my fiancé in the past…he'll probably sweep right in and… _no._

Webb's eyes are wide with surprise. "And you think I have something to do with that?"

"No. This is all me."

"But you think I can help with it?"

I heave a sigh. "No…it isn't that…"

Minutes pass and I'm surprised Webb is being as patient as he is. "It's…" _Just spit it out, Rabb._

"It's what?"

"It's that mission…"

"I gathered that. What about it?"

"I keep seeing it…"

"And?"

"Mac is pregnant."

"I know. I hear you are having a girl. Congratulations."

"The baby…she moves. All the time. Feeling that is so—so amazing. But then I…it reminds me of…the flashbacks…I can't, they won't, ah, stop and—and—I—I—" I suddenly feel like I'm choking. Well, that's a bit of a lie. Since my first flashback the night I first felt out daughter move, I've felt like I'm choking. It's just more intense. I look over at the bourbon. Webb leaves his chair and slides the glass over to me and this time I can't help taking another gulp of it.

"Okay, Harm. You what? Go on."

"It—I—oh, fuck, Webb, it's horrible, I'm—I'm losing my mind—" God, why can't I get through this.

"Harm, take a breath. What happened today?" Webb stays calm, and it pisses me off. It pisses me off so much that I finally let loose in a torrent of words.

"Every-time-I-touch-Sarah-I-see- _her-_ and-it-happens-all-over-again-and-I-can't-sleep-and-the-nightmares-oh-god-the-nightmares-all-night-and-the-flashbacks-and-I-can't-work-and-Sarah-thinks-I'm-having-an-affair-because-I-can't-touch-her-but-I-can't-tell-Sarah-about- _this-_ she'll-hate-me-and-today-I-she-she-fell-back-and-she's-having-contractions-and-and…" I have to stop and take a breath. Several breaths. I'm aware I'm hyperventilating and I know I need to slow my breathing before I pass out. I look up at Webb and it's obvious he's no longer sympathetic. I knew I shouldn't have come here.

"Rabb, what did you do to Sarah? Where is she?" His voice is deathly quiet.

I shake my head. "No, Webb, I didn't…it was an accident." I realize as the words leave my mouth that they don't sound good either. Webb is suddenly looming above me, a look of fury on his face. I shrink away, cursing myself that I'm so weak right now that I'm actually shrinking away from _Webb._

"What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?" His voice gets louder with every word.

"Nothing, Webb! I left her at home and I sent the admiral over to her!" Haltingly I tell him what happened, how she pulled my hand to her stomach, how the movement of the baby sent me into a spiral, how I knocked her off balance when I took my hand away. I tell him how guilty I still feel about it all and how no matter how mad he is at me, it will never match how furious I am at myself. No, I didn't really physically hurt her, but…

"But I know I frightened her. And she thinks I'm seeing someone else—but I'd never…she's scared of me, Webb. I'm scared of me. I need help…and I—I don't know where to get it." My eyes meet Webb's and at least his no longer look murderous. He signs and sits back down.

"Have you told any of this to Sa—Mac?"

I shake my head. "I can't tell her this…she'd hate me."

Webb snorts at this. "Rabb, even after all the stupid shit you've pulled, she's never hated you. I seriously doubt she'd start now."

"Well, I still can't say anything…it's all classified."

"So, I'll declassify it. Just for you and Sa—Mac. _Tell_ her, Rabb. She'll understand."

"How?" I ask in despair. And if I do tell her, what happens after that? I doubt everything will be magically perfect. I'll still have flashbacks, I'll still have nightmares. More counseling? I still wouldn't be able to tell any counselor about what actually happened, and I clearly can't handle this on my own.

"You go home, sit her down, and tell her… _everything."_

I nod, but then I have to admit something that will make me seem even weaker. "I think I'll…I'll need more than that, though."

"More counseling?" he asks, and I wonder again at the fact that I'm telling this to Webb of all people.

"Yeah." The admission hurts. "But I don't think it'll help."

"Why not?"

 _Well, duh._ "Because I can't actually say anything to them."

"Not to a civilian counselor. But the agency has psychologists and psychiatrists that you _could_ talk to."

That earns Webb a snort this time. "If you recall, I'm no longer a part of the agency."

Webb winces a little about that and I take some pleasure that he obviously feels guilty for firing me. "I'll make the arrangements. I have someone in mind…he helped me after…"

"Paraguay?" God, how I hate that word. Clay has to too; he was nearly tortured to death.

"Yeah." He nods. "Harm, look, I'm sorry about how things went down there. About dragging Mac down there. About getting between you when I knew damn well how Sarah, uh, Mac felt about you. This is the least I can do for you—and despite what you may think, I've always considered you a friend. I don't want to see you like this, and I even want you and Mac to be okay. But there's one condition…"

"Tell Mac."

"Yeah. You need to. She needs to understand and you…well, you just need to."

I sit up from the couch then and lean across the table toward him, hand extended. We share a firm handshake and, though there's a part of me that hates this part, I thank him. The gratitude is real, and for the first time in weeks I feel a little glimmer of hope.

I can't deny that it still irritates me that Webb is the one that is helping me get out of this mess, but then again, on some level, Webb has always irritated me. This is nothing new.

"I'm going to call over to Langley, get you on Dave's schedule ASAP. Take a load off, Harm. Finish your drink, or just sit there. You look like shit."

I realize suddenly that I _am_ exhausted. As in, I'd better not drive and it's not because of the alcohol exhausted. "Okay, Webb. Thank you again."

"You owe me now." He flashes a grin. I merely glare at him. As I said, grateful as I am, he's still Webb.

He drops the smile and shrugs. "How 'bout we just call it even?"

* * *

 _1632 Local_

 _Webb's Apartment_

 _Alexandria, VA_

I catch myself dozing while Webb makes the arrangements at Langley for me. I'm so tired but I really don't want to fall asleep on another man's couch—that just seems wrong. Now that I'm calmer, I consider calling Sarah. I even pull out my phone and start to dial, but flip it shut before the call can go through; I don't know what to say to her over the phone. I just hope she can forgive me. I lean my head back against the leather of Webb's couch, slipping back into slumber for a few minutes until Webb returns to tell me this 'Dave' will see me tomorrow afternoon. I take that as my cue to leave but my body apparently has other ideas, because the next thing I know I'm stretched out across the couch with a blanket over me.

 _Oh lord, the spook tucked me in._

I'm never going to live this down.

* * *

 _1755 Local_

 _Webb's Apartment_

 _Alexandria, VA_

I am jolted awake by someone shaking my shoulder. I don't know where I am at first and I come up fighting, but thankfully I remember what's happened before I damage Webb.

"Whoa, Rabb, is this how you always wake up?"

I merely shrug as Webb sits down on the table in front of me. He looks serious and suddenly my heart starts pounding. "What?" _Please let Sarah be alright…_

"I just got off the phone with AJ," he starts and by now my heart is up in my throat.

"Sarah?" I ask, hoping against hope that everything is okay. But then Webb nods.

"He took her to Bethesda a couple of hours ago."

My head snaps up. "The hospital? Why? What happ—" I'm nearly hyperventilating by this point.

"Now, calm down Rabb. She was having contractions and they just wanted to check on things. AJ said so far everything looks good and things seemed to have calmed down for now. They're going to keep her overnight and see how things are in the morning."

I'm instantly on my feet but a wave of dizziness reminds me that I haven't eaten anything since…last night. I reach for the arm of the couch, determined to stay upright. Webb raises an eyebrow.

"You okay, Rabb? When's the last time you ate something?"

"Never mind that. I need to get to the hospital. Thanks, Webb, ah, Clay. For everything."

I move away from the couch now that I think I've gotten my bearings. I turn toward the door, but Webb blocks my path.

"Sit down before you fall down."

"Dammit, Webb. Get out of my way. I need to go."

"Harm, settle down. _I_ will take you to Bethesda. You are in no condition to drive." At that point I catch my reflection in a mirror on the wall. I really do look terrible. Frightening even, with my pale complexion, gaunt cheeks, and the dark circles under my eyes. My shoulders slump in defeat. Webb's right.

"Fine." I shuffle back to the couch and drop myself onto it.

Webb heads into the kitchen area and starts pulling things out of the refrigerator. _What the hell is he doing?_ "Webb, come on. We don't have time for you to play chef."

I hear his muffled voice as he buries himself in some cabinet. "Your going to eat something. You are _not_ going to show up looking that way for Mac." Webb finds what he is looking for and stands up, setting a blender on the counter. He starts throwing greens and fruit into the jar and soon he's blending it all together. Once he's satisfied, he takes the jar off the base and pours the contents into what looks like a travel mug.

Soon, Webb is standing over me waving the mug of whatever he's made in my face. "What is it," I ask, leery of his culinary skills.

"Smoothie. Kale. Protein. Berries. Anti-oxidants galore for you health nuts."

I accept the proffered mug and take a cautious sip. "Hmmm, not bad," I say, taking another sip. "Although I never thought I'd hear you say the word 'smoothie', Webb."

He smirks but doesn't comment. He tells me to get up, then demands my keys. I reluctantly hand them over, feeling like I'm giving up all control of my life to a spook. But, he's right. I shouldn't drive. I'm physically tired, emotionally exhausted, and I don't think I would be able to stay on the road.

Soon we're on our way, Webb looking out of place in my SUV. I lean my head back and close my eyes, growing more nervous the closer we get to Bethesda. I'm worried about our baby, about my relationship with Sarah, and about how I'm going to tell her about my life in the CIA. I'm also worried about facing AJ. He's become extremely protective of Sarah so I'm half expecting a right hook as his greeting. Speaking of…I wonder what he said to Webb. AJ isn't the biggest fan of Webb either; my former CO once broke Webb's nose over what happened the first time Sarah and I went to Russia. My curiosity overrides my fatigue and I have to ask Webb about his conversation with AJ.

"Soooo…what did you tell AJ?" I ask, turning my face to the window. The city whizzes by and I find it makes me dizzy, so I close my eyes again.

Webb doesn't say anything for several seconds and I am just about to ask him again when he finally answers.

"The truth—that you were on a mission that went south, and unfortunately the full ramifications of it didn't hit you until now."

I snort. If that wasn't a massive understatement. I realize that Webb is still talking. "Say again?" I ask.

"I, uh, talked to Mac too."

I swallow hard. "And?"

"She's worried about you."

"Did you tell her— "

"I told her the same thing I told AJ."

"Ah."

"Rabb, she knows there's more to this than what she originally thought."

I nod but don't say anything. My apprehension continues to grow as we drive on, despite the reassurances from Webb.

 _Reassurances. From Webb._ Lord, that is a strange thought. _Holy shit, this is so fucked up…_

"What's fucked up?" _Damn, must have said that out loud._

"Besides the obvious?" I ask. "This!" I motion between us. Webb shrugs, but I can tell he thinks this whole situation is surreal as well. We ride in silence for a couple of minutes until I look over at him again. _May as well be completely honest here._

"You know, Webb, it wasn't too long ago that I wanted to kill you." Webb's eyebrows go up a little but other than that he doesn't appear all that surprised.

"Yeah, I kinda got that." He maneuvers my SUV toward the exit for Bethesda.

"Uh, well, sorry about that." I'm not sure how one really goes about apologizing for previous murderous intent, so I keep it simple.

Webb appears to be concentrating on the road and doesn't say anything for several moments. After a bit, I hear him let out a sigh. "Don't worry about it. If the situations were reversed, I would have felt the same. And for what it's worth, I probably deserved it."

I hold up my hand in a feeble protest, but he shakes his head. "Let's just forget about it, okay?"

"Okay."

We don't speak any further and a few minutes later we're pulling up at Bethesda. I can feel my heart start to beat faster and my palms start to sweat. We park and get out of the vehicle, Webb handing over my keys as we stand awkwardly at the hospital entrance.

"Well, thanks…Clay. This has been…"

He gives me a sardonic smile. "Surreal?"

"Hell, yes. But I appreciate it." We stand there a few seconds more in the August heat. "Um, you want me to get you a cab back to your place? Or, did you…did you want to come up?" I find myself hoping that he won't come with me while at the same time thinking it might be nice to have him there as a buffer between me and an angry AJ…like a human sacrifice I can throw to the wolves to distract while I go to Sarah.

"Nah, Rabb. I'll have mother send a car…or I'll have Catherine…" His eyes suddenly widen; clearly he thinks he's said too much. I can't resist a little ribbing.

"Catherine…Gale? Going after my 'wife' now too?" He looks decidedly uncomfortable, but I can see there's a little glimmer of something there. I decide to let him off the hook. "She's great, Webb. Good luck."

"We're just friends, Rabb. Nothing more."

"Of course. Tell her 'hello' from me."

"Right." He holds out his hand and I take it in a firm handshake. Then I turn and head inside the hospital, praying Sarah will forgive me.

* * *

 _1851 Local_

 _Bethesda Navel Medical Center_

 _Bethesda, MD_

I head up to the maternity ward and ask for Sarah's room number. My steps slow as I approach it, but I force myself to keep going. My heart is now racing as I peek in her door.

Those damnable tears form again as I take in her sleeping form. The sound of our daughter's heartbeat is soft in the background and for a few moments I just listen to the galloping beauty of it. I step completely inside the room, noting that AJ isn't here and emboldened, I walk up to Sarah's bed, relieved that she seems to be resting peacefully. For several moments I just stare down at her, fighting the urge to reach down to brush away a strand of hair that's fallen across her brow. Finally, I give in. My hand reaches out…

And is stopped by a hand that clamps around my arm in a painful grip. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" AJ hisses in my ear. He drags me away from t bed and pulls me out into the hall. _"Well?"_ I shrink under his furious glare, not knowing what to say and not for the first time today, I curse my weakness. My lack of response clearly infuriates the former SEAL and his whispered tirade couldn't have more blistering if he'd been shouting it. I stand there and take it, knowing I deserve it. Knowing I deserve even more than a mere dressing down.

"Harm?" The soft voice of my fiancée calling from her room is enough to stop AJ in mid-sentence. I don't make a move to go to her, though, unsure if AJ will allow me to get close to her again. I'd like to be able to tell him to fuck off, this is _my_ fiancée, and so on…but after what I've done…

"Harm?" Her voice is louder this time. "Is that you?"

I gulp and clear my throat, painfully aware of hard gaze of my former CO. "Yeah, it's, um, me."

"Come here, please." I still hesitate. "Honey, it's okay." Despite the furious glare of AJ, I can't refuse her. I step back into the room, AJ staying close behind me. _"Harm,"_ she whispers, holding her arms out to me. "AJ, can you give us a moment?" Sarah's protector is obviously reluctant, but he eventually nods and steps out.

I stand awkwardly in the middle of the hospital room, still unsure, looking at the floor because I can't look her in the eye.

"Harm, baby, come here, _please."_

Finally, I make myself go over and sit down in the chair by her bed. I look down at the hand closest to me, taking in the IV attached to it. For some reason it's that sight that makes the tears I've been fighting actually fall. Her hand rises up to touch my face, brushing the tears away with her thumb like I've done so many times for her. It only makes me cry harder. She sits up and I feel her arms go around me, pulling my head down so it rests in the crook of her neck. "Oh, honey," she whispers, I'm overwhelmed that she can be this tender with me after everything that's happened today.

"I'm sorry," I whisper repeatedly into her shoulder once the sobbing calms. She just holds me and strokes my back and runs her fingers soothingly through my hair. After several minutes I draw back and meet her sympathetic gaze. I see the tear tracks on her face too and it breaks my heart.

"Sarah, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I scared you. I'm sorry—"

"I know, Harm," she says, her voice still barely above a whisper. But then she winces, her hand going to her belly and rubbing it. Instantly I'm in panic mode.

"Sarah, are you—is the baby—oh my god, what have I— _oh, god…"_

"Harm. _Harm!_ I'm okay, we're okay. They gave me something to calm the contractions as soon as I got here and they haven't come back. I just have the occasional contractions that I've been having off and on for the last couple of weeks. It doesn't look like I'm actually in labor, but they did give me a steroid shot to help her lungs just in case. I'll get another dose tomorrow and as long as nothing changes, they'll send me home, okay? Everything's okay."

I can only nod, the guilt for all of this still overwhelming me. She knows me well, though, and knows exactly what I'm thinking. "Harm, this wasn't your fault." I look away from her. Of _course_ it was my fault. "Harm! Look at me. _Look_ at me. We. Are. Okay." I just nod again and I hear her sigh as she pulls me close again. This time I wrap my arms around her, wanting to hold her tightly against me but not wanting to hurt her. She feels fragile in my arms, but I know that right now she is far stronger than I am.

We hold each other for a few minutes and then I draw back a little. There are things we obviously have to discuss. "Sarah, you have to believe me. There is no one else. There could never be anyone else."

"I know, Harm," she answers.

"And I'm so sorry I—I made you fall."

"It was an accident."

"I'm not disgusted when I touch you. It's just that…it's just that…when I try to feel her move…I—" My throat closes up. I know I have to tell her what happens, but it's hard. It's just so hard.

"Sweetheart, I know this has something to do with what happened while you were in the CIA. Clay…well, he didn't give me details; he just told me I needed to get you to talk about it. He's right. You need to talk about it. It's killing you."

There's no doubt about that. It is killing me, but it's also killing me that her opinion of me is going to change as soon as she knows all the gory details.

"Tell me, Harm."

"You're going to hate me."

"Never."

"You don't know—"

"Harm, no. I could never hate you. _Never._ And that's one 'never' I can stick to."

My mouth quirks up a bit at that. 'Never' has caused us many a problem. But she doesn't know what she's saying now. If she knew…

"Harm, please, you need to get it out. From what little Clay has told me…well, it breaks my heart that you went through all that and have kept it to yourself for so long while it eats you up inside. _"Tell_ me. I love you. Nothing's going to change that."

"But—"

"Tell her, son. It'll be okay." AJ has stepped into the room, and a look from him tells me he knows what happened. Whether he's always known or Webb told him later, I don't know, but I see that he's no longer looking at me with anger. His expression is sympathetic now that he understands what led to my broken call for him to go to Sarah. I take heart that he's forgiven me, so I turn to Sarah and look deeply into her eyes. I see her love from me there, and with a shaky breath, I use the strength that love brings me to give me the courage to speak. But, still, I have to ask…

"Are you sure, Sarah?"

"Harm…yes, I'm sure." She takes my hand and rubs the back of it with her thumb.

I turn my head toward AJ again. "Sir, can you stay?" I'm not sure why I want him to, but if nothing else, at least someone will be here for Sarah if she no longer wants anything to do with me.

"Of course, son." He sits down on the little couch across from the bed.

"We're here for you, Harm. You're safe. We love you. You can tell us anything."

I nod. It's surreal that she included the former admiral in her declaration of love, but that's certainly not the only surreal thing to happen today. He isn't protesting behind me so maybe it's even true. I have the urge to giggle hysterically at that thought, but I reign it in. "Okay, Harm?" she says, her voice gentle and soft.

"Okay."

I squeeze her hand and finally let go.

 _End Chapter 7_


End file.
